What Matters
by kg2
Summary: Semi-AU. The story begins in 2004, while Fitz is a senator from California and Oliva is a recent college graduate living in L.A. Her involvement with Cyrus, Fitz - their backstories and what follows - are my own fictional musings grounded in personality traits true to their characters on Scandal. My first attempt at this! Let me know what you think.
1. Chapter 1

Olivia Pope has never been interested in social relationships. It was just the natural order of the universe. Accepted by all, questioned by no one. When boys asked her out in high school, the furthest anyone got was to a second date, and usually that was to a diner and not followed by heaving petting on the subway. In college, there were young men who made attempts at pursuing her, and girls who thought she might make a good friend. Inside Corwin Hall at the coffee shop while she studied, on the lawn outside of her dorm, in the hallway of her off-campus apartment in Princeton, other students made small talk, asked homework questions and invited Olivia to social gatherings. Despite her repeated responses, "Thanks, but I'm busy," "I appreciate your offer," "Not today," the offers persisted. And yet, because it was what it was, Olivia was as unconnected as a person could be.

The origin of the disconnect dates to her childhood. Had anyone in her life gotten close enough to learn about her history, they would know that her guarded demeanor is the result of having lived more lifetimes than a young person ever should. Her mother passed away when Olivia was in sixth grade, and her father sent her to boarding school. During her first year there, as a seventh grader, the news of her father's death was delivered to her door by the dean of students. And so, in January of her seventh grade year, as an only child with no living family, Olivia was alone. Surrounded my counselors, classmates and concerned teachers, but alone. What seemed to make sense to her at the time was to study, have a good reputation, be kind to people and make path for herself. She never saw a counselor. She never really made a friend. She just studied. The biggest connection she made was to Cyrus Beene, the director of the Department of Politics at Princeton.

They first met during the first semester of Olivia's freshman year. She had requested the meeting to get on a track to graduate in three years.

_Walking into the office_, _she was reminded of home for the first time in a long time. Having not stepped foot in her childhood for five years, it struck her how quickly the familiarness surrounded her. The wood paneling, the bookshelves, the coffee table crowded with magazines, books and writing utensils. Nice pens, mostly. She stood and waited for Mr. Beene as he finished a phone call._

"_Yep, ma'am, I absolutely understand, I can assure you my motivation was strictly professional."_

_He looked up at Olivia, motioned for her to sit, and rolled his eyes, presumably at the nonsense being uttered by the woman on the other end of the phone._

"_I am well aware of the standards, yes. Of course. I simply inquired about your availability because we are looking for…"_

_He was interrupted again. Another eye roll, this time accompanied by a hand to his forehead._

"_Ma'am. I'm going to stop you there. I run the Department of Politics at Princeton. I was hoping you wanted to join our faculty. My invitation to dinner was simply to gauge your interest. As I enjoy having sex with men, I assure you, my intentions were pure. However, given the quickness with which you jumped to conclusions I can ascertain that we probably would have butted heads, and I mean that figuratively, so all is well that ends well."_

_He hung up, sighed heavily, checked his Blackberry and approached the sitting area._

"_Olivia Pope. Thank you for waiting. My apologies, I was hoping to have that cleared up before our appointment."_

"_I understand, sir."_

"_Cyrus, please." His outstretched arm was there for her, so she shook it. "What can I do for you, Olivia?"_

"_Thank you for meeting with me. I am here to request an increase in my course load, as well as a teaching assistant position so that I may prepare myself to graduate in three years." _

"_You just got here! Why the rush?"_

"_Sir, Mr. Beene," Olivia began._

"_Cyrus."_

"_Cyrus, I have given a lot of thought about how I might spend my future, and to be frank the sooner it gets here, the better. I am a hard worker, as my records will show, and I am always looking toward the next thing. Right now, the next thing is my graduation from this department and a job in Washington."_

"_I appreciate your honesty. I'll tell you, three years is going to be tough. I don't doubt your work ethic, but the nature of the courses is such that I am not sure it is possible to take more than you already are. I took a lot at your registration. You already have more on your plate than most first year students."_

"_I appreciate your honesty as well. Please, though, allow me the opportunity to try. If it is overwhelming, or if my performance is not up the standards of this institution, I will slow down."_

"_Something tells me it won't come to that."_

"_You would be correct, Cyrus. Generally, when I decide about the next thing, it happens."_

Because Olivia required written approval from Cyrus for most of her academic decisions, they met regularly. Though she did not share anything about her personal life, they often found themselves having conversations about the political issue of the day, or a campus event, or a particular assignment. Olivia found herself looking forward to their meetings. And so, in May of 2004 as she waited on the leather sofa in his office for their final meeting after her graduation, she felt for the first time that she might actually miss someone other than her mother or father. She had never allowed the opportunity since her father's death, and here she was, wondering who she would debate with following the upcoming national presidential campaign.

_The door swing open, and in walked Cyrus, talking on his Blackberry, as usual. Almost three years later, Olivia could tell from his tone that this phone call was both personal and professional in nature._

"_Tom, look, I hear you," Cyrus waved as he closed the door behind him. "I understand, and the opportunity sounds both challenging and horrifying at the same time. You know I usually cannot pass on things like that. But I'm in good standing here, in line for provost."_

_Olivia took mental notes while Cyrus listened to the caller._

"_Alright, alright. I'll fly out. This is not a promise, or even an indication that I am considering it. But I'll come meet you. Him. Whoever. Have your secretary call mine to work it out. Yes. Princeton, sir. Yes. Goodbye."_

"_Cyrus, should I be more disturbed that you are into opportunities that are challenging and horrifying or that you were that easily convinced?" Olivia asked with a teasing tone in her voice._

"_You know what? I'm not sure. I was just bamboozled by the former governor of California to come meet his son, whom he would like to run for president."_

"_Tom, Tom, Thomas Grant?"_

"_Fitzgerald Thomas Grant II, who would like number 3 to be president."_

"_Isn't number 3 a senator? Why does he want your help? Not that you can't help, but you know what I mean."_

"_I do, which is why I resisted. Number 3 does not want to be president. Speaking of resistance. He is young, energetic senator who apparently has no interest in higher office despite having the charm and intelligence for it. Boggles his dad's mind, kind of boggles mine, and you know I can't turn down things that confuse me."_

"_I do. Well, good for you. I wish you well out there."_

"_I should be wishing you well. Congratulations. You were lovely at graduation and you have represented us well. You are going to do wonderful things at the firm."_

_Olivia had accepted a position as a strategist at a media relations firm in Los Angeles. It was a long way from Washington, but it was the job that made the most sense to her. She also figured it would help her get to the next next thing, which had yet to be determined. _

"_Thank you, Cyrus. And thank you for believing in me and helping me get to this point."_

"_It has been my pleasure, Olivia. Can we have lunch when I get to California?"_

_It hadn't occurred to her that she would ever see Cyrus again. Part of the allure of Los Angeles was that it was another fresh start, connection free. Still, she respected him and sincerely appreciated his support during her years at Princeton._

"_Sure. You have my cell number. I don't plan on changing it. Call me, we'll lunch." She giggled. It sounded grown up and so unlike her. _

"_Great. Well, my dear, you are going to great things. I'm going to miss you. But I'll see you in California!"_

And so it was that Olivia found herself using printed directions to make her way to the address Cyrus had given her over the phone. He had arrived in L.A. in late July. Oliva's job was going well, she had rented an apartment near the ocean, rediscovered her love of swimming and was settling into her quiet live if California. When Cyrus called, she found herself slightly shaken but happy to accept his lunch invitation. She had expected a restaurant, but he suggested the order in at the house where he was staying.

She stopped at a stop sign, glanced at the directions and realized she must have missed the house. Putting the car slowly into reverse, she found a gate with the correct house number. Turning the car in, she expected the gate to open. When it did not, she realized there was an intercom. Before she could call Cyrus, the gates opened. She drove slowly down a wooded lane that ended in a cul-de-sac. The house just beyond the road was, in her mind, the quintessential California mansion. Low rise, lots of windows, modern, tasteful. She stepped out of her car, straightened her white pants and peach blouse and started a slow turn in place. As she spun back to face the front door, she found herself face to face with someone she had seen and heard on television.

"Hello. May I help you?"

Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III. Holding a football and a bottle of water.

"Yes, hello sir. My name is Olivia Pope. I'm supposed to be meeting my friend Cyrus Beene for lunch. Do I have the wrong address? I was sure I had passed the home, but then I saw the gate…" Olivia rambled, leaving her sentence dangling, two things that rarely happened.

"You're in the right spot. Cyrus is inside with my dad. This is my dad's house, actually. I'm Fitz Grant." He put out his hand.

Olivia shook it. Immediately, a wave of nausea overcame her followed by a whooshing sound in her ears. She shook her head slightly to regain her composure.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Grant. I just moved to California, but I am familiar with some of your work."

"Fitz, please. The good work, or the work that most people care about?"

"I'm not sure. I know about your work with stem cell research funding and improving teaching programs, mostly."

"The good work. Most people don't know about that stuff. But they're thrilled that I don't want to make traffic worse in L.A."

Olivia laughed. He had a point.

"How do you know, Olivia?"

"Excuse me?" She didn't quite understand what he was asking.

"How do you know about what matters?"

She thought for a minute. She could talk about her undergraduate research, her personal passion for research, the fact that her mother was a teacher before her death, but instead, she said,

"How does anyone?"

The words shocked her. They shocked him. They were left floating there between Olivia and Fitz. After a few moments, he stepped toward her.

"I ask myself that daily. I don't know that I've ever said it out loud, though. I have been struggling lately to hold on to what matters, you know? And defining it, well, that's another issue altogether."

"I'm sure it's a struggle, pleasing constituents while staying true to yourself."

Fitz looked at her. He was about to respond when Cyrus and another man, who by his resemblance was clearly Fitz's father, came out of the front door of the home.

"Olivia Pope! I have missed you, your natural beauty, your East Coast work ethic and your squinty-eyed look as you listen to me espouse."

They embraced. Olivia smiled, realizing she had missed Cyrus, too. The whole time, Fitz just stood next to his father, watching.

"Olivia, this is Tom Grant, and it seems you have met his son Fitz."

"I did, yes. Thank you for telling me in advance I would be having lunch with someone other than you," Olivia said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Just lunch! No need for advanced warning. Plus, you wouldn't have come if I had told you the real reason for my summons."

Olivia jokingly hit Cyrus' shoulder then stepped around him to shake the hand of Tom Grant.

"It's a pleasure, Olivia. I have heard a lot about you."

There was a pause. Olivia wasn't sure how to respond, Fitz was still a statue, Tom was looking at Cyrus, and Cyrus was looking at Olivia. Finally, Cyrus realized he was in charge of this lunch. Meeting. Whatever it was.

"Let's eat! Fitz, you're welcome to join us. Plenty of salmon, plenty of wine."

"I just might. Let me go clean up. Olivia, it was nice to meet you. See you in a bit."

"You too, Fitz."

When Olivia turned to Cyrus and Tom, they both looked as if they had seen a ghost.

"Did he just agree to join us for lunch, Cy?" Tom asked.

"He did. Yes."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but Olivia might be the good luck charm after all."

With that, they headed inside. Olivia remained standing next to her car, fighting the instinct to flee.

"You coming, kid?" Cyrus called from the porch.

She took a step forward, wondering what was next, not realizing that for the first time in a long time the not knowing was actually okay.


	2. Chapter 2

Olivia's observation that the house was quintessential California was correct. Once inside, after stabilizing her thoughts and her body, she saw the floor to ceiling windows that faced the ocean. The open floor plan. The furniture that was so low to the ground it should be avoided by anyone with knee injuries. The fire place for chilly nights, though of course in California "chilly" was relative. The fire place was probably her favorite feature. It reminded her of the other coast, the one she associated with home, the one she hoped to end up on in the future. Her thoughts were interrupted by Tom Grant, otherwise known as Fitzgerald Thomas Grant II.

"Olivia, Cyrus tells me you graduated top of your class in three years. I know what kind of teachers he hires given that I once was one. Well done, young lady."

"Thank you very much. It was a privilege to study there. And you're right, Cyrus means business when it comes to the study of politics. How long were you at Princeton?"

"Just two years as a teacher, though I also earned my law degree there. I enjoyed it, though I missed the water."

"I'm starting to understand what people mean when they say that. My apartment has a view. Though not quite like this."

"Worked very hard for this view. Worked hard for my family, trying to set them up for the futures they deserve. I just wish they all could see it that way."

Cyrus walked in from the massive kitchen carrying a plate of bruschetta ("Homemade! I'm so domestic.") and three wine glasses. Tom walked over to the wet bar and grabbed a bottle of red wine.

"Olivia, you old enough to drink this?" Cyrus joked.

"Just turned 22, yes, thank you."

"Sorry, the L.A. sun has been good for you. You look refreshed."

"I'm feeling good. Work is work, but I'm learning a lot. Very fast-paced, a lot of walking and talking. I thought at first I might be out of my element," Olivia said.

"No way! Not Olivia Pope!"

"Well you didn't let me finish, Cyrus. I thought at first, maybe, but I'm making my way. Earning some respect. Learning how to walk in heels."

Both men laughed. As they enjoyed their wine and talked about current events, the series finale of _Friends_ and the weather, Olivia heard a side door open. Senator Fitzgerald Grant, Fitz, walked into the room. Freshly showered, he was wearing jeans, boots and a just-right fitting t-shirt. His hair was still wet. Olivia silently kicked herself for noticing any of these details.

"Fitz! So glad you could join us," Cyrus beamed.

Tom Grant stood up, shook his son's hand and offered him a glass of wine. Fitz accepted. As Tom went to get another glass, Cyrus followed and they whispered secretively.

"So, have they told you why you're here?" Fitz asked.

"They have not. Should I be worried?" Olivia countered.

Tom handed his son a glass, and then he and Cyrus retreated to the kitchen.

"Well, that depends. If you are interested in joining the army of people trying to convince to run for president in four years, then no, you're in the right place. If you truly thought you were here for a nice lunch with the one of a kind, genius freak that is Cyrus Beene, then yes, you should be worried."

Olivia laughed. "Genius freak?" she said, taking a sip of wine.

"Come on. The guy knows everything, in a way that is both awesome and terrifying."

"You're so right. And he was my sole advisor at school. What does that say about me?"

It was Fitz's turn to laugh. "I don't know, Olivia. You tell me. What'd you study?"

Olivia found herself sharing her course of study, her favorite classes, why she chose them. She asked Fitz similar questions (Harvard undergrad, Harvard law), and found that he was genuinely happy to be serving as the junior senator for California.

"You mentioned you knew of my interest in funding stem cell research. How did you know about that?" Fitz asked with sincere curiosity emanating from his greyish blue eyes.

The same instinct to flee that she had experienced in the driveway hit her. But as she made eye contact with Fitz, and glanced around at the house, the fireplace, the ocean, she felt comfortable. Just comfortable enough to share a little piece of her.

"My mother was a wonderful woman. She had this smile, this laugh, she lit up the room you know?"

Olivia stopped. That was not an answer to the question. But Fitz just sat back in his chair, sipped his wine and waited for her to continue.

"Anyway, one evening when I was eight years old, we were cooking dinner. Breakfast for dinner, actually."

"Don't tell me you're one of those people," Fitz guffawed.

"I am. Have you tried it?"

"Well, no, but it just doesn't seem right."

"Don't knock it 'til you try it, my friend."

Olivia was tipsy. This was the lightest she had felt in years. Maybe ever. But she continued.

"Anyway," she said, with a furrowed brow to make sure Fitz knew she was judging him for judging her love of breakfast for dinner, "we were cooking eggs, bacon, toast. We all loved it. And she was scrambling the eggs and I saw the her pinky finger was twitching. It wasn't on the fork, you know?"

Fitz nodded. Olivia liked that he was just listening, not interrupting. Except about the breakfast.

"I asked her about it, and she said it had been happening on and off for a while. She didn't seem worried, so as an eight year old, I wasn't worried. To make a long story short, it turns out she had Parkinson's."

Fitz sat up a little in his chair.

"It was scary. I spent hours at the school library, then at the public library, trying to learn about this disease I had never heard of. I had the librarian help me research. I called doctors and used my grown up voice pretending to be interested in alternative treatments."

"You were eight?" Fitz asked. His first question.

"I was eight," Olivia said, sipping her wine. "And what I found was that my mom was in big trouble, you know? There we medications, and it was hoped that they would stop her symptoms, help her live a comfortable life, but she was always going to have this. But one of the doctors I called mentioned what some researchers at Hopkins were doing with stem cells. And since then, I've been tracking them, and the progress."

Fitz set his empty wine glass on glass coffee table. He just stared at her.

"So, anyway, during one of my regular inquiries, I came upon a response you gave during a senatorial debate. I remember that you worked it in to a question about women's rights, and I remember thinking that you had a sense of what stem cells might mean to people. That's how I knew."

"You're a good storyteller, did you know that?" Fitz asked.

"You're a good listener," Olivia responded.

"I can't believe you remember that response. I barely do, and I said it. I planned it. I knew it wasn't going to come up, but I wanted to get something on the record."

"I could sort of tell, you know? I could tell that you cared about it."

"Olivia, how is your mom?"

This time Olivia set her empty glass on the table.

"She passed away when I was twelve. Gracefully, of course. We spent our last night together eating bacon and watching _M.A.S.H._ on my parents' old VCR. My mom couldn't see, or really hear, or understand, but for me and my dad, you know, it was exactly how we pictured it."

Olivia silently kicked herself. Scolded herself, really. In the previous ten minutes, she had shared more about her life with, by most definitions, a stranger, than she ever had in her life. Even Cyrus, who knew she had lost both of her parents, knew few of the details.

"I'm sorry. That was a lot of information. I'm not really a sharer."

"Don't apologize," Fitz said quietly. "I'm sorry about your mother. She sounds like she was a great woman and a great mom."

"Thank you, I appreciate that."

Olivia got lost in her thoughts. How many people had said they were sorry about her mother? Dozens? Hundreds? How many of them had really mattered? Her father, of course. Her teacher at the time, who cared about her and allowed her to miss school and make up work without making Olivia feel guilty. Cyrus. And now Fitz. Who, despite not knowing her well at all, had listened to the details and expressed genuine regret about her loss.

"You know?" Fitz said.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said," Olivia responded, realizing she had been lost in thought.

"I was just saying that your story, though individual to you, is generally why I just don't understand how people can oppose the research."

"I'm with you," Olivia said, making eye contact with Fitz for the first time in what felt like hours, though it was probably minutes.

For the second time that day, words exchanged between them floated in the air, between her seat on the couch and his on the chair. And for the second time, Cyrus was there to burst the bubble.

"Sorry about that guys, We got caught up for a moment. You two getting to know each other?"

"Only a little," Olivia said, while Fitz said simultaneously, "Definitely."

Cyrus laughed. "Sounds about right."

Tom and Cyrus refilled glasses, took their seats and shared one final glance before Cyrus began speaking again.

"Olivia, do you remember when you told me that what you saw in your future was a job in Washington?"


	3. Chapter 3

Alarm bells. That is the only way to describe what was happening inside Olivia's head as Cyrus began speaking. Giving his pitch, really, about why she should leave the job she had worked so hard to obtain to help the possible/maybe/pretty unlikely future campaign for president of Fitz Grant. The bells were sounding, her face was burning. So maybe the burning face was a result of the two glasses of wine and Fitz's eyes, which were trained on her for the duration of Cyrus' speech. She was still reeling when Cyrus took a breath and glanced at Tom, who was apparently next in offering his two cents.

"Here's the thing, Olivia. Cyrus is right. What we have here is a young senator without a lot of government experience but who has the brains and the charm to be whomever he wants to be. We need a team of youthful, motivated, intelligent people to help him get there."

"Dad, you know I'm sitting here right?" Fitz wondered aloud.

"I do, Fitz. I also know that you have your reservations, you're happy in your current position, blah blah. That means nothing to me."

"Wow. Thanks, Dad."

"You can do more! Be more!"

"If you want this so badly, why don't you run?"

"I don't stand a chance in hell of winning. I'm old politics. The country is looking for new blood, fresh ideas, someone young and inspiring."

Cyrus nodded in agreement. "The only thing your dad inspires is drinking and napping. Not that there's anything wrong with that, Tommy boy."

The room laughed cautiously. Despite her nervous giggle, in an effort to appear as if she were calm, Olivia still sat, hearing the bells, feeling Fitz's energy from across the room.

Cyrus continued. "Look, Olivia. This might not even be permanent. We're looking for someone who can commit to two years to working their ass of, excuse my language, to see if this is something we can do. Tom, myself, others, we believe we can do it. But if after two years things don't turn out the way we think the might, it's over. You go back to you job, or you move to Washington and start your own firm. But you're the kind of person we need. Someone unattached, with the drive and passion for this, but even more importantly, someone incredibly smart and capable of greatness."

"Lay it on thick, Cy," Fitz said, with a slight smile.

"You think I'm kidding? This kid," Cyrus said, pointing his wine glass at Olivia, "is the brightest student I saw in my ten years at Princeton. She just gets it. She gets politics, she gets people, she gets it. Her brain will be studied, after she dies of old age while sitting in one of those wooden lounge chairs, holding some of this damn fine wine, facing a building or monument that has been built in her honor."

"Cyrus," Fitz began.

"I'm serious! Her brain, let me tell you, they don't make them like this. She's got it, she's what we need. And people will be wanting to know how it all happened, trust me. Her brain is a freak of nature."

The bells stopped. Olivia's usually hard shell started to crumble. What had started as a crack, maybe when she first saw Fitz on the driveway, or when she shared too much, or when Cyrus suggested she leave her job, the crack was now spreading. She shook her head again, stopping the bells and bringing herself to a point where she felt like she could move or speak.

"If you'll excuse me, I'd like to get some fresh air," Olivia said while standing.

Cyrus, not realizing that one of his typically well-received rants had stunned her, asked if she was okay, and she nodded. But she stood looking for the nearest exit which happened to be a glass door that seemingly lead to a deck or patio.

"This is a lot to process. I'd like to just collect my thoughts, if you don't mind."

"Absolutely. Tom, Fitz, let's go get the main course ready."

"You guys go ahead," Fitz said, standing. "I'm going to check on something."

Olivia made her way to what was actually an expansive deck filled with comfortable furniture, fire pits, and a great view down to the ocean from atop of a bluff. She put her hands on the railing to stabilize herself, her brain, and that is when she heard the sliding behind her open.

"So, when I said I was going to check on something, I actually meant you."

Fitz's voice. Olivia turned slightly.

"Thanks. That was intense, to say the least. I appreciate your warning, though I didn't realize just how serious Cyrus was. About you. This. You know."

"I do know. They're like that. A lot. But I didn't come outside to talk about that. I wanted to see if you were okay."

"Okay?" Olivia was puzzled. Hadn't she just explained why she needed a moment to breathe?

"We had just finished talking about you mom, and then Cyrus talks about studying your brain, it being a freak of nature. I don't know, it just seemed like a bad coincidence to me and I wanted to make sure it wasn't going to be the reason you said no."

It occurred to her then that Fitz had really been listening to her earlier as she described her mother, her illness, her death. Olivia had spent so much time actively not talking about the subject, which meant she had never really allowed anything about it to get to her. She explained as much to Fitz.

"Understandable," he said quietly. He moved slowly, so slowly, toward the railing. "You said you weren't a sharer."

Olivia sighed. "I did say that. I'm not sure what's gotten in to me today."

But Olivia was smart. Not freak of nature smart as Cyrus had described, but smart enough to analyze what had caused her willingness to share anything about her personal life with anyone, let alone Fitz. She had felt in in their handshake. She might have known it when she watched a video of his debate. Fitz wasn't just anyone. She felt like she knew him, not well, of course, but she got a feeling of knowing from him that she had never allowed herself to get from anyone else.

At the same time, Fitz was standing opposite of Olivia, feeling like he was literally watching the wheels turn in her head. He could tell she really was not someone who shared much of herself with anyone. From what little he knew, she hadn't had the easiest of childhoods but had ended up finding her way to a great job at a reputable firm and was also on Cyrus' short list of people who might be useful if he were to change his mind about running for president.

"Wait," Olivia said. "You just said you wanted to make sure I didn't say no for the wrong reason."

"Did I?" Fitz's eyes glowed a little bit, maybe from the afternoon sun that was lower in the sky, or maybe because they were just those kinds of eyes.

"You said, 'It seemed like a bad coincidence and you didn't want that to be the reason I said no.' Why does it matter if I say no? I though you were set against running."

"You have a good memory."

"Freak of nature, remember?" Olivia said, pointing at her brain and rolling her eyes.

"It is true that I have been pretty adamant about even considering a run. We're talking 2008. It feels so far away. I like the work I'm doing. I like where I live." Fitz trailed off, walked toward the railing and set his sturdy hands down to lean forward a bit.

"Those are all excellent reasons not to run," Olivia said.

"Is there a but?"

"Not exactly. They really are good reasons. Very logical. The thing is that running for president is not logical. You can't really think about it like that. It's magical. It's a once or twice in a lifetime, very exclusive club. Most people never consider it. It should feel like an honor that someone like Cyrus thinks you can."

Fitz was quiet. Olivia continued.

"I'm not trying to persuade you. I'm just suggesting that maybe you shouldn't sell yourself short. Say no if you want. But be proud, too."

Olivia smiled to herself, remembering a paragraph she had written in third grade. When she grew up, she had expressed, she was either going to be president or live on a cocoa bean plantation in Hawaii. She leaned back against the railing.

"What?" Fitz asked.

"What?" Olivia turned to look at him.

"You're smiling."

"Just thinking."

"For someone not intent on persuading me, that was a dandy little speech you just gave. Kind of makes me feel important. Like I should pound on my chest and swing from the trees, Tarzan style."

"Let's not go too far," Olivia laughed.

They laughed together. Olivia's hand reached up to put a piece of hair behind her ear at the same time Fitz began to turn toward her, bumping into her elbow. As Olivia dropped her arm, there was no choice but to end with her right arm brushing and resting against Fitz's left.

They stood together silently, presumably watching the ocean. But the electricity Olivia felt between them was undeniable. The friction between her blouse and his arm, the way their breathing matched. She was 22 years old and this was the closest she had been to a man in, well, ever.

Fitz was the first person to move. He turned to face her, and used his left arm to turn her toward him while keeping his right hand on the railing.

"Earlier, when you were agreeing with me, you said, 'I'm with you."

"I did."

"I know how you meant it at the time. I'm wondering, as I stand here wanting to put my arm around you and have you tell me another story, if that also means you'd be with me if I agree to pursue a different office."

Olivia went to steady herself with her left hand on the railing, finding Fitz's in the same spot. She quickly moved her hand away. He lifted his, in what seemed to be an effort to get her to come back, but she took a step back.

"Fitz, I don't know enough yet. It's a lot for me to process. The opportunity is rare. What I know of you, I like. But it's a risk, and taking risks has never been something I enjoyed or participated in by choice. I have a job. I'm trying to build a life."

Fitz closed the gap Olivia had just tried to create by taking a step toward her.

"And further, you don't even know if you want this! Why would I put all of my eggs in the Fitz Grant basket? You don't even like eggs!"

Fitz took another step, this time while laughing out loud.

"Look, I like you. You just said you like me."

"I said that what I know, I like."

"Fine. What you know, you like. We've had a couple of nice conversations, nicest I've had in a while. In my heart of hearts, I just want to do good work. I just want to make life better for some people. My biggest concern has always been that I'll be president, and I'll spend four or eight years spinning my wheels."

"You've pictured yourself as president?"

"Haven't you?"

"Well played, Senator."

"Thank you, Ms. Pope. "

They stood smiling at each other. Unlike earlier in the day, there was nobody there to interrupt them. They both seemed paralyzed.

Fitz cleared his throat. "What I am saying is, hearing you talk about this is different than hearing my dad or Cyrus beg, plead or bribe. It feels different. Authentic. Like you mean it."

"I meant what I said. I think it's worth considering. But as to being able to do the good work, I have no idea about that. Staying out of the Washington rigmarole is near impossible. But history shows that good men can do good things."

"You've given me a lot to think about."

"That wasn't my intention, but I hope it is helpful."

"It is."

They were standing very near to each other now. Near enough that she could feel his breath on her arms that were folded across her chest. Anything to keep herself closed off from whatever was transpiring.

"Olivia Pope, this day might have changed my life," Fitz said.

Olivia said nothing. She brushed her hair out of her face again. She glanced at the door, willing for someone to interrupt them. She glanced out at the ocean, wishing it was close enough for her to jump in. She was not used to feeling connections. To anything. Or anyone.

"The day isn't over yet, Fitz. Anything can happen," she finally whispered.

"I just might believe you."

Fitz made a move that Olivia had only seen in films. He was clearly going to hug her. She was smart enough to know that, but also smart enough to avoid it. She stepped back, held out her hand and said,

"Fitz, it was wonderful meeting you. I have a lot to consider. Given my issues navigating here, and seeing the sun start to set, I should probably be going. Thank you for being such a good listener, I'm sorry I burdened you with my stories."

Fitz took her hand, but held it.

"Not a burden. Honest. Insightful. Kindhearted. Never a burden."

"Well, thank you for understanding. I'll see myself out."

Olivia had to remove her hand from his, and then walk past him to make her way to the door. She thought she had escaped without further damage to her outer shell, but Fitz grabbed her left hand to stop her.

"Li…Olivia. If I go in there and say yes, it will be because I think you want to say yes, too. So please, consider it. If we were in this together, I might be able to handle my dad and Cyrus. Maybe. Let's just say it's more likely."

Olivia laughed. "Sure, Fitz. As I said, you've, they've, I have a lot to think about."

"I feel the same," Fitz said, dropping her hand.

"Have a good night, Fitz."

"You as well. I hope to hear from you soon. Wait! My number."

He pulled out his flip phone and asked her for her number, and then proceeded to call it.

"All set," Olivia said, unable to last another moment alone with Fitz.

"For now. Drive safely."

"I will. Thanks for a lovely afternoon."

Olivia opened and closed the sliding glass door. She gathered her purse from next to the couch, and found Tom and Cyrus sitting at the kitchen table.

"Gentlemen, it was a pleasure to be here. Tom, thank you for your hospitality. Cyrus, you tricked me but I appreciate your kind words earlier. I'm going to have to pass on dinner, I would like to get home before dark. But I will be in touch soon."

Cyrus stood. "Olivia, I hope we didn't scare you."

Tom stood as well. "I hope my son didn't scare you. He hasn't spent that much time alone with a woman since his high school math tutor."

She kissed Cyrus on the cheek, shook Tom's hand, and headed toward the front door. She glanced back at the deck and saw Fitz, standing with his hands on the railing, looking at the ocean. She felt the feeling she had felt on the driveway, and again earlier outside. Despite her nature, despite her brain telling her to drive away and go back to the quiet life she was making for herself, despite knowing she had no clue what tomorrow might bring, she made a decision. And so, as soon as she got to her car, she took her phone out of her purse, found his missed call, highlighted the number and hit send.

Fitz answered on the first ring. "Olivia?"

"I'm with you."


	4. Chapter 4

The self-doubt and questioning began as soon as Olivia hit the end button and got into her car. Almost immediately, she regretted her uncharacteristic impulsivity. She knew something important had happened to her today. Even she who shunned inter-human relationships understood that the moments she had shared with Fitz were significant. Not because he was who he was, but because she had shared a part of herself with him that nobody, not one single person alive on the planet, had ever seen or heard.

As she entered her apartment, she dropped her keys into the small, glass bowl in the shape of a cherry blossom that resided on the table near the door. The bowl had belonged to her mother, though Maeve Pope had used it for her wedding rings at her bedside. Olivia hadn't kept many of her mother's things. The bowl reminded her of her mother both because of its beauty and for what it had once held. When Olivia closed her eyes at night, she could transport herself back to her parents' bedroom, imagine herself as a little girl sitting on their bed watching _The Young and the Restless_ while her mother changed from her work clothes to her home clothes. The clank of her wedding rings as they hit the glass flower. Or sitting next to the bed as her mother fought for her life, the rings in the bowl as they no longer fit on her hands.

There had been many times in her life when Olivia had wondered what her mother's opinion might have been. For example, when Olivia had to choose a legal guardian and settled upon a distant third cousin who merely provided signatures. Or when she was struggling with a particular Latin teacher in high school, she wondered how her mother, a teacher herself, might have advised her to ask for help. Those were all situations that Olivia had handled independently, because what other choice did she have? She never allowed herself to feel abandoned. She did not tolerate the use of the word unfair by counselors or classmates. She pressed forward with the cards she was dealt, never really allowing herself to wallow in the sadness that surrounded her. It was in the moments where she questioned herself that she missed her parents the most. Tonight, after telling Fitz she would join the team of people who would help him seek the presidency, was one of those moments.

If she was honest with herself, something that was very difficult for her, she was excited about the opportunity. She had always viewed her future through the lens of being a difference-maker. Big or small, she had her mind set on helping people. She knew that her current job, where she helped a large company navigate its public persona, was not the place to do that work. She had accepted it because she thought it would open doors for her, provide experience and give her a chance to live near the ocean. Cyrus had played his trump card when he recalled their conversation and her desire to work in Washington. Despite Fitz's cynicism, which was unfortunately accurate, working in the nation's capitol was still one the next things on her list. Working at the beginning of a campaign would not necessarily get her to Washington, but it would be a step toward it.

That same honesty, however, required Olivia to consider the downsides. She would be leaving a job she had only just begun, burning a bridge and a resume point. Though finances were not a serious consideration for her, she would be paid much less than she had planned and would most likely have to move. The unknown of her daily life as part of the team scared her. How would she spend her time? Was she prepared? Could she handle it? Those fears all boiled down to one big and repeating question in Olivia's mind: what if it doesn't work out?

For Olivia, after the death of her father, she made it her mission for things to work out. She found a guardian who left her alone. She ended up with an A in Latin. She worked hard and graduated on her timeline. And so, the idea that working for Cyrus and the Grants might be short term, leaving her in a place she could not predict, was the most terrifying of all. And that is why, hours after leaving Tom Grant's home, she found herself sitting on her balcony, holding a glass of iced tea, staring into the oblivion over the roof of the building next to hers to get a peek at the sunset.

She sat for hours. When her phone rang, she realized it was 10:30. It was Cyrus.

"Olivia. You made quite an impression here today. Can't say I'm surprised, though I was hoping to have to beg more. You should have heard what I had prepared."

Olivia sighed. She wasn't sure how to respond.

"Are you there?"

"I'm here, Cyrus. I'm here, and I'm going to be honest, I'm having second thoughts."

"I figured. I waited to call. The Olivia Pope I knew as a student didn't make impulsive decisions. When Fitz came inside and told me you were in, I thought it was a joke. When he told me he was in, I thought I was on candid camera. When I realized he was serious, I just about passed out."

"He's in?" Olivia breathed.

"He's in, kid. And I meant everything I said earlier, it wasn't all for show. The wine, that was for show. The bruschetta," Cyrus said.

"I knew the bruschetta was for show, Cyrus. I once caught you eating instant spaghetti."

"Okay, so yes, I was wooing you. But Fitz, Fitz is his own man. I don't have to talk him up. I wouldn't have called you if I didn't think he could do this. My life was a lot easier 6 hours ago. Now I'm running a campaign for a barely-invested candidate with a team of four people and one computer."

Olivia laughed. "Cyrus, I have a question."

"Shoot."

"You mentioned that right now it is a two year commitment, which means to the point of acquiring credibility within the party. My concerns lie in the unpredictability of that timeline. What if we are unable to do that? What if in two years other potential candidates come out of the woodwork?"

"You're asking what will we do if it doesn't work out?"

Olivia sighed. Cyrus was smart.

"Yes. Or what if it does? It's four years from now and we're in the thick of obtaining the nomination. I don't even know what that looks like."

"Keep that optimism. That's what we need. Look, who knows?"

"That's your answer? 'Who knows?'"

"It is my answer. I know you aren't a journey person. You're a destination person. I'm asking you to think about our destination here. Just think about it. The unpredictability scares me, too, kid. But by god, the destination, that's something."

"I know. I thought of that, too."

"Look, you have to quit that job anyway. I said it was a good fit because you seemed happy, but you can do better. This is better. It doesn't matter what happens in two years, it matters that you show up on Monday ready to help us do our best to move in the right direction."

"Good speech. But you want this."

"Damn straight. And Fitz is special. He's really special. How many times have you heard me say that?"

Olivia recollected. "Once, maybe?"

"The correct answer is never. I'll give you that one because you're going to show up on Monday with your own computer and some croissants. Right?"

"Cyrus, you're too good at this."

Cyrus paused before saying, "And one day, you'll be better."

Olivia spent the next days and weekend managing the parts of her life that were changing, and changing rapidly. She spoke to her boss, explained her situation. Despite her offer to work for two weeks, she was summarily let go and escorted from the building. She found herself wondering if she should care more, but soon realized that Cyrus was right. The job was a rest stop. She went to an electronics store and used some of her savings to buy a laptop computer. She knew she should pack, given she would most certainly have to move, but finances had not been sorted yet. Had not been sorted. Just thinking those words made her nervous, and yet here she was, sitting on her tiny balcony, reading everything she could about Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III.

She confirmed that he was smart, something of which she was already fairly certain. He practiced law for two years before going to work for the city of San Francisco, where he grew up. That led to a stint as the district attorney and then a successful run for senator following the death of one of the longest-serving senators in California history. Chalk it up to good timing, or capitalizing on opportunities, but Fitz had a seamless transition into government life. Certainly it was made easier by his last name, something old articles made sure to mention. Though in her mind, it was pretty clear he was devoted to being more than his name. He had actually gone by the name Tommy as a child, but switched to Fitz in college. His family had moved to Los Angeles after his dad left the governor's mansion, but when Fitz returned from Harvard he chose San Francisco. She understood he was most likely visiting his family as congress was not in session during the first two weeks of August.

Though she tried to avoid it, the details of his personal life were also available. He had never married. He had never had a single high-profile relationship with a woman (or a man) that she could find. This caused rampant speculation during his run for senator. When asked, Fitz always maintained he liked to keep his private life private.

This was no more apparent than when Olivia discovered why there had been no mention of his mother during her visit. She found in his biography that his mother had passed away when he was very young, less than two years old, in a tragic accident. His father, Tom, had remarried when Fitz was thirteen, though by that time he was at boarding school and Tom was beginning his second term as governor.

Fitz hadn't mentioned anything about his mother. Olivia thought then that her story must have meant more to him than just a case for stem cell research, and yet he didn't volunteer the information. It reminded her of herself.

Fitz was now 34 years old, turning 35 in November and living full time in a small city outside of San Francisco with a second home in Lake Tahoe. The California side, of course.

Olivia mulled over this information throughout the weekend leading up to her first day at "the office," which just so happened to be in three rooms combined at Tom Grant's house. His second wife had passed away from cancer two years previous, so there was plenty of room for them to set up shop. On Sunday evening, just as she was about to step in to the shower, her cell phone rang. She ran the length of her small apartment, assuming it was Cyrus. She felt both nervous and excited when she recognized the number.

"Hello?"

"Olivia, hi, it's Fitz."

"Yes, hello. I knew it was you. There aren't a lot of people who have this number. So it was either Cyrus calling me to say it was all a ruse or you."

"Do you wish it were a ruse?"

"No. I've had a few days to come around to the idea. Quitting my job felt better than I expected. I blew some money on a computer, surely making the salesman's day with my lack of knowledge about technology. I'm feeling as ready as I can be, I think."

Fitz laughed softly. There was silence.

"Fitz, what about you. Do you want to call the whole thing off?"

"Well," Fitz said, "yes and no. Yes because I'm nervous it will all be for nothing. No because I'm nervous it won't."

"I couldn't have said it better myself. I think I said something similar to Cyrus when he called to make sure I didn't quit before I started."

"He called you?"

"He did. And he needed to. I was doubting my decision. But, like I said, I'm ready."

"You were doubting it? You should have called me."

"Called you? Why?"

"I don't know. We could have, I don't know, talked or something."

Olivia thought for a moment. This was as awkward for him as it was for her. Maybe more so.

"Fitz, I appreciate the offer, but I needed to be in my head and then have someone who is trained to snap me out of it do just that."

"I understand. I don't know what I'm saying. I guess I just wanted to talk. I wish I would have known you needed someone to listen."

"You'll have your chances. We're just getting started, right?"

Another silence.

"Yeah, we're just getting started. I'll see you on Monday. Tomorrow. Okay?"

"See you tomorrow."

With that, and without a goodbye or a good night, the call ended. Olivia started getting ready for bed, knowing sleep would be a luxury on this, her last night before her first ever step into the unknown.


	5. Chapter 5

As nervous as she had felt in the days leading up to her first day of her new job, as the gate opened for her at Tom Grant's house, Olivia had never felt two opposite feelings more. Nervous, yet calm. She felt a strange confidence because she had been selected by Cyrus, and seemingly had not worked for this opportunity the way she had worked for so many in the past. Still, that confidence was paired with butterflies in her stomach and the inability to eat any of the pastries she had picked up from the local bakery on her drive to the house. Office. Whatever it was. She would find out when she got inside. Which, she knew, required that she exit her car.

She gathered her purse, her computer bag (also a splurge, because who doesn't need a $200 laptop bag, she was still kicking herself about that but also admiring the softness of the leather and the look of the bag itself) the box of croissants and muffins, and her large iced tea and began to exit the vehicle. She soon realized she could not carry everything at the same time, except that she realized this as the box from the bakery began its slow slide off of her arm toward the cement driveway. She was helpless to stop it from falling. She put her foot out in attempt to soften the blow, but many of the pastries spilled onto the driveway.

Sighing, Olivia gathered herself and her belongings, leaving the spilled delights for the birds. It was then that she heard the jingling, and turned to find a St. Bernard trotting around the corner of the detached garage. She knew how this would go. She could try and stop this beast from consuming three muffins and two croissants, or she could just go with it. Given she had no free hands, she stood and watched as the dog licked his lips following what had likely been his most tasty breakfast in ages. She would have pet him, or her, she couldn't tell, but her hands were still full so she began making her way toward the front door.

That is when she heard Fitz calling, "Tock, Tock, come here boy."

Tock. The dog's name. Olivia thinks for a moment.

As Fitz rounds the corner, she said, "So, you're a fan of _The Phantom Tollbooth_?"

"Well done. Trust me, the other guesses are all related to my alleged fears about living out the rest of my life in solitude and my dog. The ticking clock thing. But you got it. I love that book, I love that Tock is the wise sage, along for the journey. And this guy," Fitz says, leaning over to give the dog a good scratch between the ears, "this guy is the best."

"Well, then I should probably tell you that ol' Tock here just carbo-loaded on five pastries from the bakery."

Fitz laughed. "He's had worse. Need a hand?"

The three of them, Tock included, made their way into the house. Olivia followed Fitz down a hall and ended up in what looked to be a combination of a large dining room and a sitting area. A big table filled the space. There were a lot of chairs, but nobody sitting in them. There was a lot of paper, the one computer mentioned by Cyrus, a pitcher of water and some beautiful sea green glasses. Fitz helped Olivia set her things on the table, except the pastry box, which he took with a nod at Tock who was laying on the floor at his feet.

They made their way to the kitchen, where Cyrus was on the phone. Olivia spun a little and realized there really was nobody else. When Cyrus had said there was a team of four people, she wondered, was it the three of them and the dog?

"Good morning, Cyrus," Olivia whispered.

He gave her a wave, while finishing his phone call. Fitz set the box on the counter and motioned for them to make their way to the deck. Olivia internally resisted, hoping to just get to work and focus on why she was there, but she didn't even know where to begin. She grabbed her tea and followed Fitz and his giant dog to the deck.

"Mornings and evenings are my favorite time here," Fitz said.

"And why is that?"

"It's quiet. You can hear the birds. It feels crisper, cleaner, I don't know. Maybe it's just not as warm, and that's how I like it."

"Not a hot weather person?"

He turned to look at her. "Not really. I had some winters in Massachusetts. I actually didn't mind them. I'm not a fan of steamy California summers."

Olivia noted this was probably why he had a home near Lake Tahoe.

"What about you? You're an East Coaster, I assume?"

"It's what I know. I moved here, actually, to be near the ocean. I've always longed for it. It feels good to be near it. But I like the seasons, the predictability of knowing there are different phases of the year."

"Even though that means the weather is unpredictable sometimes?"

Olivia hadn't thought if it that way. She nodded as she processed what he said.

"For me, it's just water in general. The ocean, a lake, even a river. It feels good to me to be near something not made by us. Something that has been here for millions of years before us. That, and the sound. I sleep with one of those noise machines, you know those things?"

"Sure." Olivia used the white noise feature to quiet the external sounds around her.

"I use the ocean waves one, or sometimes babbling brook. It's refreshing, but also relaxing. I don't know. Why are we talking about this?" Fitz laughed.

"The weather. The coasts. The absurdity of our situation requires small talk. Take your pick."

That brought out what Olivia could only assume was Fitz's real laugh, the one he used when something was really funny.

"You're so right. Though just like last week, it feels good to talk to you."

Olivia nodded, with a genuine smile on her face. That was all she could offer in a reply. Cyrus joined them outdoors.

"Olivia, good morning. Fitz, that dog can stay, his slobber cannot."

"Cy, he's a St. Bernard. Slobber is part of his being."

"Then his being can stay in the guest house."

"Let's just see how it goes, Cy. He's behaving himself so far."

Olivia glanced at Tock, who was sitting on a lounge chair letting the morning light warm his belly.

"How is my team? We feeling good, ready to do this?" Cyrus asked.

"About that," Olivia said, taking a sip of her tea, "generally when I hear the word team I think of five, ten, one hundred people. Who else will be joining us?"

"For now, we're just waiting on two more people. I have a guy from Princeton, a former colleague, who will be here today and then someone that was recommended to me by a friend. Tom and I have been working on this for a little while, so there are other contacts out there doing some work for us as well. Which brings me to my first piece of good news, and what I was nailing down on the phone."

Olivia and Fitz waited.

"As you know, the convention is here in a few weeks where they will formally announce Clark as their candidate. Given that the convention is in San Francisco, it seemed fitting that Fitz might be given some time to welcome folks to California. It took some finagling and I had to make some deals, but we are now confirmed. Fitz will be speaking on the second night of the convention, the keynote of the night!"

Olivia and Fitz stared.

"Come on! This is news. This is a coming out party! This is our first giant step for Fitz-kind."

"Cyrus, wow, I don't know how you do it." Fitz was visibly stunned.

"You don't need to know. That's the beauty of it."

"So we need a speech?" Olivia cut in.

"Yes!" Cyrus exclaimed, clapping his hands once. "We need a speech. We need an amazing speech. And we need to get out there beforehand to make sure people watch the amazing speech. The work starts now."

With that, Cyrus turned and headed inside. Olivia began to follow, but noticed that Fitz was still kind of staring into space.

"Hey, are you alright? This is good news. If nothing else, it gives us something to do for the next two weeks."

"Yeah. Yes. I'm alright. I'm just having that moment where I realize that this is happening. Even before, seeing you, I was still sort of just pretending we were old friends, chatting about the weather. At my dad's house. So yeah, I needed a reality check. I'm ready."

"Where is your dad?" Olivia asked.

"I'm not sure. I haven't seen him since dinner last night. He said he was going to play cards, I don't know where."

Olivia filed that information away as they headed inside to begin working. It felt good to have a purpose, however short-term it might be.


	6. Chapter 6

Driving back from the first day of the convention, Olivia in the back of the rental black SUV, the team as a whole had a nervous energy. Tonight they had been guests, tasked with talking up Fitz and the speech he would deliver tomorrow. Tomorrow, the would be backstage, in a holding room. New territory for all of them. Individually, their specific worries varied.

Cyrus, riding in the front passenger seat, was worried about the lack of exposure. Though there was buzz about Fitz's speech, he knew it was crucial to have the crowd into it and have people at home tune in. He also wondered about Tom, who had stayed behind at Candlestick Park for one more round with some old friends.

Fitz, sitting next to Olivia in the first row of seats, was worried about delivering the speech. He had practiced, he liked the words, but this would be the largest crowd of people he had ever had listening to him. He was also worried about Tock, who had been left alone with his father's new friend, Eleanor, and hoping they were both in one piece.

Abby, who had left her job in the mayor's office to join this team was worried that they had done too much, that they were moving too fast. In her experience, moments occurred after a slow build. She felt good about their candidate, and was happy to be on the ground floor of something that could potentially change her life. She also worried that her life would remain exactly as it was, and that thought scared her the most.

Harrison, who was driving and primarily worried about not getting into a fender-bender on the way out of town, also wondered about his role on the team. He had left Princeton has a graduate student at the request of the former director of his department. He wasn't technically the least experienced of Team Fitz, given that Olivia had only graduated three months prior, but he still felt like an outsider. Still, he knew that his ability to talk to people was, at the moment, direly needed by the group.

Olivia's mind was racing. She thought of all of the conversations she had had that evening. She thought about the speech Fitz would give tomorrow. She wondered about Tom Grant, who seemed more withdrawn than usual, if that was possible. Ever since the first day of work on this project, he had seemed distant. He was rarely at the house. His new girlfriend seemed nice enough, offering food and drinks to the team as they worked tirelessly preparing for the convention. When the group had traveled to San Francisco for the convention, meeting Fitz at the hotel rather than his home, Eleanor and Tom and traveled separately. Olivia had only seen him briefly since their arrival four days prior, and he was quiet. Not the boisterous Tom who had cajoled everyone currently working for Cyrus into joining the team.

As Harrison pulled into the hotel parking garage, Fitz spoke first.

"I know we still have some work to do. I'd like to review the speech, make any revisions needed. Would anyone be opposed to doing so at my home? I'd like to go back, freshen up, feed my dog, check on Eleanor and my dad."

Cyrus responded. "I think you should absolutely go home and do those things. And then I think you should come back here. We need to be in the zone. "

Fitz sighed. "If you think it's best."

"You know," Abby said. "I don't think it matters. I think Fitz should be comfortable. I say we all take an hour, then meet at his house."

Olivia looked at the faces of everyone in the car. She could tell everyone was exhausted. The car was idling.

"I'm with Abby. Let's all gather ourselves and meet at Fitz's house. We can grab the other car and meet you there," she said, looking at Fitz.

"Sounds great. Thank you." He was saying it to the car, but also to her.

"I am overruled by people who's combined ages barely top my own. Fine. Let's meet here at 10:30, okay gang? Fitz, be ready."

"Yes, sir," Fitz said with a mock salute.

As Olivia started to climb out of the vehicle, Fitz tapped her on the shoulder. She reversed course and turned to him.

"Any chance you want to ride with me? It's okay if you don't. I wouldn't mind the company, though."

Olivia's mind flashed to the last two weeks. Fitz had been around due to the congressional recess, and they had spent most of their days and nights working on this speech. Writing news briefs, making appearances, commenting on pertinent political matters. Soon he would go back to Washington, and then begin his rigorous schedule of appearances, votes and general business of being a United States Senator.

"Sure. Guys, I'll see you over there, okay?"

Abby looked surprised. Harrison and Cyrus were already out of earshot. Olivia stepped out of the backseat and got into the front passenger seat while Fitz got into the driver's seat.

As they made their way toward Fitz's house, which was apparently near the bay and not far from their hotel, the first few minutes of the ride were quiet. Olivia spoke first.

"I don't think we have a lot of revisions to make. You're ready. It's going to be great. You'll show them who you are, then escape to senator-land while the rest of figure out what's next."

"Right." Fitz said. A one-word reply. Olivia had used that tactic many times, so she took the cue and stopped talking. As they turned into a quaint subdivision of modest homes, Fitz pulled the car over, and turned to her.

"I'm," he began. Then he stopped, facing forward. Olivia remained quiet.

"I'm not looking to escape, exactly. You know I like the work I do. I'm also feeling guilt about leaving you all to do this for me." As he said 'this' he moved his hands around as if to say, "all the rest."

"I understand, but this is what we signed up for. It's not like we thought it was going to be 'The Real World: LA' and we would all just hang out living the good life."

Fitz laughed. His real laugh. "That would be nice, though, wouldn't it?"

"Nice, sure. But we're all made for more than that. Yourself, included."

Fitz turned back to face her. His head titled slightly, like he was thinking.

"Olivia, there's something else I should probably tell you. Cyrus knows, and it's supposed to be a secret, but I don't talk to people, really, except you, a few times."

"Fitz, it's okay, you don't have to tell me anything."

"I'm trying to tell you that I want to."

"Oh. I don't talk to people a lot, either. Just learning how, actually."

"Maybe that's why we can talk to each other. We're both socially inept."

"Maybe." Olivia smiled.

"I'm also feeling guilt because my father, he's, he's not himself. He's starting to not be himself. He doesn't always know me, or where he is. We brought in Eleanor as a nurse, and he thinks she's his girlfriend. She seems okay with it. I feel like I shouldn't leave, like he needs someone to take care of him."

Olivia should have been more shocked. But she immediately connected the dots and realized how they all fit together.

"I'm sorry, Fitz."

"Not much to be sorry about. Early Alzheimer's. It is what it is."

"I'm sorry about that. But I'm also sorry you haven't had anyone to talk to about this if that's what makes you feel better." Olivia wouldn't know, as she generally tended not to share anything with anyone. Except Fitz. That one time.

"I'm not really a talker, as you know. It's just hitting me that the speech is tomorrow, I leave the following day, and it doesn't matter if I'm here I not, I know that. But it's hitting me. That's why I wanted to be at home. My dad is there with Eleanor, well hopefully he's there, and I just, need to be there."

"Then let's go. What are we waiting for?"

Fitz nodded and put the car into drive.

Olivia couldn't stop herself from adding one more thing. "And it does matter if you're here. It matters to all of us."

The following evening, the same group sat in their same positions following Fitz's keynote address at the convention. The nervous energy was still there, as were individual worries, but they were slightly adjusted after what had just occurred inside the old ball park.

Cyrus was astounded. He had been outwardly optimistic about the reaction inside the stadium, but inwardly very nervous. Who was he kidding, he was always nervous. The response to the speech, the ideas Fitz presented, the sentiment he expressed, it had been more than he could have dreamed. Cyrus' mind was already spinning about what needed to be done tomorrow.

Fitz needed water. His throat was coarse, he felt famished and exhausted. He felt the positive energy from the crowd and his team still soothing his nerves. He was happy that his dad had been there to see it, hopeful he would remember it tomorrow. He glanced at Olivia, who was looking at the bridge outside of the SUV window, and for the second time in nearly as many weeks felt like putting his arm around her.

Abby thought the speech had gone well. She also felt like she was maybe being paid to be the devil's advocate of the group, because although she felt like the crowd's response was fantastic, she wasn't sure how it was going to play to the national audience. The first item on her list for tomorrow morning was to begin monitoring reaction and responding accordingly. She had seen her former boss, who was also her ex-boyfriend, and worried that she would be hearing from him before the night was through.

Harrison was thinking about spin. All of the connections he had made were now stored in his Blackberry. He wanted to get the car parked so he could immediately reach out and ride the wave of positivity to their next task. He was also taking glances in the rear view mirror at Abby, sitting in the back of the SUV alone. She had started the night so excited and ended so quiet.

Olivia was replaying Fitz's speech in her mind. He had had some excellent moments. Many of which were scripted.

_America, I submit that it's time for an attitude adjustment. A time for self-reflection. A time for all of us to collectively ask ourselves: where are we? Where do we want to be? I want to be in place where my ideas are valued and my voice is heard. I want to be in a place where there are equal rights for all and honesty is not the best policy, it is the only policy. I wanted to live in the United States of America and continue to feel the same pride our fathers, grandfathers and great-grandfathers felt for this great nation. _

That was her favorite section of the speech as written. She was mulling over the end, which Fitz had revised spontaneously from the stage.

_It's time for us to ask ourselves: what are we made of? I believe we are made of brightness, of light, of ideas, of innovation and kindness. We're all made of so much more than even we know, and together, we can move these United States in a direction that is far brighter than even we can imagine._

It reminded Olivia of their talk in the car last night. She wanted to tell Fitz she thought it was a great addition. She wanted to tell him it moved her. She wanted to tell him she would miss seeing him every day. But she didn't. She just stared out of the window, allowing her eyes to glaze over as she watched the bridge disappear. She took one glance at Fitz, who was looking at her, or at her window, she couldn't be sure. She took a deep breath and turned toward him.

"It was an amazing speech," she whispered. Abby had fallen asleep behind them.

"Thanks, Olivia. Some of the best stuff in it was from you."

"Don't sell yourself short. Haven't I said that before?"

"Perhaps. I should say the same to you. I'm not on that stage tonight without you."

Olivia considered this. Was it true?

"It's true," Fitz continued. "This team has been better than I could have imagined. You have been exactly who I knew you would be when I met you. You are the nearest thing to a friend I've had since college."

"You're," Olivia began.

"You don't have to say anything. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'm just feeling the love tonight. Feeling grateful. So thank you."

"You're welcome, for one. And what I was going to say was that I've never really had friends. I don't know what it's like. But my guess is that this team, and that includes you, it's as close I'll ever get."

Fitz took her in. He wondered if that were true, if she was really as isolated as it sounded. How could someone so kind, smart, sensitive and, as if he hadn't noticed, beautiful, live a life without connections to people? He realized, in the darkness of the backseat of rental SUV on the streets of San Francisco, that he needed to know the answer to that question.


	7. Chapter 7

As they had hoped, the convention speech was replayed, either in full or in parts, on network and cable news for days following the convention. Fitz received letters from people across the country who had been inspired by his words. And, also as they had hoped, there were people suggesting that Fitz Grant might be just what the country needed to get back on track.

By the time November rolled around, Olivia realized she hadn't seen the younger Grant in almost three months. They had spoken on the phone numerous times, exchanged e-mails, and a few text messages. Only about business. Only about "Project P" as the team had decided to call it. The 'P' student for President. It was both amusing and alarming that they referred to it so casually, as if what they were doing, how they were spending their time, was normal. It was anything but.

Olivia spent most days researching issues, organizing information and drafting possible foundational statements that could potentially serve as Fitz's platform. As soon as the convention passed and the excitement wore off, she understood why Cyrus had involved her. She was an ace researcher and had a mind that could use various lenses to judge information. She could see an issue as political, or social or moral. She had a talent for taking information she was given and presenting it through whichever lens she desired for whomever was listening. If Cyrus asked her how a group of women would respond to a rights issue, she spun it using her knowledge in a way that women would latch onto. If Abby asked about the role of government, she could cite judgments and past dilemmas with insight.

Harrison spent his days networking. His list of contacts grew after the convention. He took lunch meetings with potential backers, threw cocktail parties at Tom Grant's home, appeared on any television network that would allow it and generally worked to slowly increase Fitz's exposure to the world. Abby's work happened internally. She focused on the nitty-gritty of preparing for a run for office. She helped manage Fitz's current staff while managing the fundraising efforts of Cyrus and Harrison. She was the spokeswoman when anyone called the office. She was interviewing potential additions for the team for when they got busier. She was also working on vetting Fitz to insure they were prepared for anything in the future should they make it to the primary debates in 2008.

Fitz was scheduled to return to San Francisco for his birthday. His California-based senatorial staff was throwing him a birthday dinner despite his protestations. Olivia, Harrison and Abby were still based in Los Angeles, though at Olivia's request they had rented office space. Tom was hanging in there, but she felt inappropriate being in his home knowing he was going through something very personal. She had observed Eleanor and knew Tom was well taken care of. Cyrus visited regularly, providing updates about the campaign and insuring Tom that progress was being made.

When Cyrus suggested that his "minions" attend Fitz's party, they first declined because they had not been invited.

"Oh, you were invited. Did I not tell you that? Fitz told me to tell you that you were invited."

Abby threw up her hands. "Honestly, Cyrus, how do you do it? How do you function like you do and still end up being the smartest guy in the room? You pass along invitations! This is not a difficult concept!"

"Sounds like someone could use a road trip. And a break. Olivia, Harrison, get this girl to San Francisco."

It was true that Abby needed a break. She had hoped they would all relocate to San Francisco after the convention, but it hadn't happened. After leaving her job, and her ex-boyfriend, things had not been particularly easy for her. Given that her ex-boyfriend was the married mayor of Los Angeles, her leaving without notice appeared suspicious to some people. It certainly caused more suspicion than their actual relationship ever had. It led to late night phone calls from the mayor, then from the mayor's chief of staff, then from the city's human resources department. She was blacklisted. She would never work in the city again. She knew that if this Project P thing didn't pan out, she would have to move. The sooner, the better.

And so it was the Olivia, Harrison and Abby found themselves outside of the newest Italian restaurant in San Francisco on the evening of Fitz's 35th birthday. Harrison and Abby walked right to the door. Olivia, on the other hand, felt a wave of nausea she knew she had experienced before but couldn't place. She rested her hand on the fence outside of the restaurant.

"Liv, you okay?" Harrison asked.

"I am, thanks. I'm just feeling a little woozy, probably from sitting for so long on the way up here. You guys head in. I'll meet you inside."

They looked concerned, but she waved them away. It wasn't lost on her that Harrison had begun calling her 'Liv,' a nickname, and that it was usually friends who had nicknames for each other. She didn't mind it. She was considering that when the door of the restaurant open and, instead of seeing Abby as she expected, she saw Fitz. His coat already off, he was wearing navy pants, a white and blue plaid button-down with a grey sweater vest. He was handsome. She knew that. She had just forgotten.

"Hi."

"Hi."

She straightened her back, shook her hair out a little and walked toward him as he closed the gap between them.

"They said, Abby and Harrison, that you might be sick. I just wanted to check. When you didn't walk through the door with them, I thought maybe you hadn't come."

"I'm not sick. I just needed a minute. Happy birthday, Fitz."

"Thank you. And thank you for coming. I'm glad you're here."

"It smells delicious. I'm hungry after the drive. We should head inside, I don't want you to miss your birthday dinner."

"Just a minute," Fitz said. "How are you?"

"I'm well, thanks. Working hard, moved closer to our office. Lost my view, but also shredded half of my commuting time."

"Lost your view? That's too bad. That's why you moved to L.A."

"Did I tell you that?" Olivia's brain was feeling a little fuzzy.

"You did. That first day."

There was a silence as they both recalled their first few conversations. Three, really. The driveway, the living room, the deck. Each, in their own way, had gotten them to where they were at this very moment, across from each other, staring awkwardly, not knowing what to do or say.

"I'm close enough, I suppose. How are you? I saw your remarks on CSPAN last night. Well done, well said."

"You're too easy on me. I phoned those in."

Olivia had a burst of laughter. She hadn't meant to laugh with so much abandon, but it felt good.

Fitz laughed, too. "It's true! A staffer wrote those. I think you're in a fuzz, Ms. Pope. Let's have dinner and clear some of the cobwebs."

The dinner was lovely. Olivia sat next to Abby and Fitz's California assistant, Kimberly. She found herself whispering to Abby about the different courses, tasting each other's wine and borrowing each other's lip gloss. Harrison was seated next to the man who ran Fitz's California office, Greg. Three glasses of excellent Shiraz later, the cobwebs of earlier were gone. They had been replaced by a lightness Olivia hadn't felt since the night of the convention. Champagne had been passed, to say the least.

After a few people gave speeches, toasting Fitz and his 35th year, people started to exit. Olivia sat quietly, enjoying a moment when her mind wasn't moving at the speed of light, thinking about the next thing. The chair next to her made a sound, and she turned to find Kimberly replaced with Fitz, who whispered in her ear,

"For someone who has never had friends, you sure are good at it."

His breath on her ear gave her the chills.

"Abby?"

"No, my assistant whom you just met. Yes, Abby. And Harrison, too."

"We're co-workers. We spend our days together. She knows more about me than most people just because she sits across from me."

"Sure, sure," Fitz said with a laugh.

"What about you? Quite a turnout for your birthday. You have plenty of friends, Mr. I Haven't Had a Friend Since College."

"Are we really arguing about who has the least friends, like that's something to be proud of?"

"We both want to win. I don't lose debates," Olivia said, finishing the last of her wine.

"I didn't realize this was a debate. In that case, it's my turn. Are we friends?"

Olivia gulped. Maybe she didn't gulp, but it sure felt like it.

"I don't know. The definition of a friend is fairly loose. We talk regularly, but about business. We don't know that much about each other. I don't know your address. Or your shirt size."

Fitz laughed again. "Interesting criteria. Though, I think you know a little bit about me."

"What does that mean?"

"Come on. You read everything you could the day you left my dad's, didn't you? I would imagine it would be against your nature not to."

"That, Mr. Grant, is due diligence. I needed to know what I was getting myself into."

"Absolutely. So then you'll understand that I've done mine about you."

"You've done what now?"

"My due diligence. About you."

Immediately, the shell began forming. The way Olivia's eyes had been smiling, her playful attitude, everything about the evening dissipated as she went in to self-protection mode.

"I don't know why you would do that. Cyrus could tell you what you needed to know."

"I was curious," Fitz said, not realizing how the tide of the conversation had turned. "I wanted to know more about you."

"There's nothing to know."

"That's not true. There's a lot to know."

"Fitz, please, enough." Olivia started reaching for her purse.

"Olivia, what's wrong? I was just talking here. So I asked someone to look into your background. I was just curious. I wanted, I want, to know you."

"You could have asked."

"You wouldn't have answered."

"Because I don't care to share it with you."

As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. But it was too late. She grabbed her bag and her jacket, stood, turned to Fitz and said,

"Happy birthday, Senator. Safe travels back to Washington."

Before Fitz could respond, she walked out of the restaurant. Abby and Harrison had been at the bar, waiting for her, so they followed her out. Harrison went to get the car while Olivia and Abby waited on the sidewalk.

"Everything okay?" Abby asked.

"Fine. Just ready to get back to normal."

Normal. No complications. No connections. And certainly no conversations with Senator Fitz Grant about anything except business.

That plan would have worked. Had Harrison gotten to the car a little bit faster, had Abby and Olivia gone with them. Instead, before she could escape to the quietness of the back seat for the drive back to Los Angeles, Fitz exited the restaurant with a look of determination in his eyes.

"Fitz, hi, and happy birthday again. It was a great meal," Abby said.

"Please, the pleasure was mine. Thank you for making the trip. Do you mind if I speak with Olivia for a moment?"

Olivia stared straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with either of them.

"Oh, um, sure, no problem. I see Harrison, I'll just meet him at the car. Olivia, see you in a minute?" Abby asked, like a friend, trying to make sure this was okay despite not understanding it at all.

"Thanks, Abby," Fitz said, not giving Olivia a chance to respond.

As Abby walked away, Fitz stepped into Olivia's line of vision. Not touching her, just standing very close. When she could hold out no longer, she looked up into his eyes.

"Hi."

Olivia said nothing.

"I'm not sure what just happened. But whatever I said to upset you, I need you to know it was unintentional. If I knew you, I might know what not to say. There's also the fact that I'm just not good at this. This being friendship. Or flirting. Or something in between. But it's important to me that you don't leave here wanting to quit. Quit working with me, or quit being my almost-friend. Olivia. Please."

She knew he was being sincere. She knew he had appreciated their earlier conversations. She knew he was a good man. She knew all of these things, but she also knew she couldn't share the things that made her who she was. Dead parents, no friends, and the feeling that she wasn't deserving of sustaining personal relationships at any level. Those weren't things she wanted him to know. She was smart and capable, and that's all she needed to be for Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III.

"I'm not quitting. I'm just not prepared to work for you," Olivia said.

"With me," Fitz corrected her.

"Okay, I'm not prepared to work with you and be your friend. I'm not built that way. I'm very sorry for the way I behaved in there, what I said. I meant it, but I didn't mean for it to sound so, so, so," Olivia couldn't find the word.

"Mean?"

"Mean. I'm sorry. I like working with you. Can we just leave it at that?"

"For tonight, we can leave it at that."

Olivia sighed. "Thank you. Happy birthday, Fitz. See you in a couple of months."

"That's better."

"What is?"

"Before, you said, 'Happy birthday senator' like we were at some sort of official function."

"I guess that's what I say when I'm upset."

"Noted. Goodnight, Olivia."

With that, he jogged slowly toward his car. Olivia walked toward Harrison and Abby who had been waiting in theirs. Self-protection methods had worked for tonight, but she wasn't sure they permanent solutions. She hoped getting back to L.A. would help her figure out what to do next.


	8. Chapter 8

By the time the Olivia returned to work after Thanksgiving, which she had spent with Cyrus, Tom and Eleanor, she had pushed the events of Fitz's birthday aside. He had been traveling overseas during the holiday, and when he called his father's home to give everyone well wishes, the phone had been passed to Olivia.

_"Happy Thanksgiving. How are things going there?" Fitz asked._

_"Not bad. Your father is in good spirits. Cyrus bought a prepared turkey and pumpkin pie. There's wine of course. It's quiet, but," Olivia said._

_"That's how you prefer it," Fitz finished her thought._

_"I do. Where are you now?"_

_"I'd rather not say. I'm safe though. Not that you were going to ask me that."_

_"Of course I was. We'll all be glad when you're back in the States."_

_"You all will. Got it." Fitz sighed. "Well, I should be going. I hope you are happy, Olivia."_

_"Happy Thanksgiving, Fitz."_

Throughout November and December, Abby, Olivia and Harrison grew closer. Olivia had even had dinner with Abby's sister, and during introductions Abby had called her a "co-worker and friend." Abby's sister wondered aloud if Olivia was one of the "Three Amigos" Abby had referenced, and Abby confirmed that she was. Olivia felt something she hadn't experienced before. She couldn't, however, name it.

For Christmas, Olivia celebrated alone, as Cyrus flew back east to be with his parents, Abby spent the day with hers, and Harrison flew to New Orleans to visit his. Fitz had flown his father and Eleanor to San Francisco. They had spoken briefly prior to breaking for the long holiday break when he called the office and Olivia, being the only one there, answered.

_"Olivia Pope, may I help you?"_

_"Is that how you all answer the phone?"_

_She knew it was him. Despite her best efforts, she had not forgotten his voice._

_"Hello, Senator. What would you prefer? 'Hello, this is the office of Project President?'"_

_"What in the hell is Project President?"_

_Olivia laughed. She explained that that was how the team referred to their work._

_"I see. Still hard for me to think about the word with a capital p."_

_"I would imagine. We're working on making you a big deal, though, so you may want to prepare yourself for the worst."_

_"And that is?"_

_"That you win."_

_There was a pause, and a sigh._

_"Olivia, why do you see something in me that I don't?"_

_"It's what I'm paid to do. Remember, we're all in this together? You'll get there. Didn't you hear yourself at the convention?"_

_"I heard it."_

_"It was honest, and real and accessible. Americans loved it, and they loved you. That's real, Fitz. That's not something we here at Project P can create. You did that yourself."_

_"Olivia, I need to tell you something."_

_"Yes?"_

_"This conversation we're having right now, it's sounding a lot like a conversation between friends."_

_Busted. Her breath caught. She closed her eyes, thought of Abby and Harrison, and all of the people who had previously tried to forge their way into her personal life. She never let anyone in, until Cyrus, and their friendship was formed out of a mutual need for each other. Even Cyrus didn't fully know about her childhood. But she had made acquaintances in Cyrus, Abby and Harrison and survived, without having to share her innermost feelings. And Fitz was rarely around, and she did like his voice._

_"You're right, it does."_

_"Wait, is this you acquiescing? We're friends? I should have been recording this."_

_"I'm learning here. It's hard for me. But I like talking to you, I like working with you, so yes, it does seem like maybe we're friends."_

_Olivia heard a bark._

_"Is that Tock?"_

_"Yeah, he's barking out of pure shock. Can't believe what he's hearing. Me, his old, isolated dad has made a friend."_

_"You aren't isolated! You're surrounded by people. You talk to people constantly. You travel the country."_

_"I think you and I both know that it doesn't matter how many people are around. You can still be alone."_

_Olivia was stunned. Because she had never really seen a therapist, she had never spoken words like that aloud. She absolutely agreed. And yet she found herself paralyzed, unable to respond._

_"Are you there? Olivia?"_

_"I'm here. I'm just, I'm not used to thinking about my life that way."_

_"I know."_

_"You know?"_

_"I didn't learn that from a reconnaissance mission. I learned it by listening to you."_

_"I see. What else have you learned?"_

On Christmas day, Olivia recalled that conversation while watching Miracle on 34th Street, the original version, and eating popcorn three ways: popped, caramel and kettle cooked. She was treating herself to a bottle of wine. The wine and the sadness, which of course overtook her on days when most people were surrounded by family, were exhausting her. She rarely allowed herself days, or even moments, to think about her parents. She had pushed them into a compartment in her heart for safe-keeping years ago. In her mind, they were safe there. Her memories, her feelings. They could not be harmed or jaded by anyone. But Christmas, well, her mother and father did Christmas. As an only child, Olivia had been spoiled, especially on Christmas. Even though her birthday was in January, she always received everything on her list and more. They watched parades, ate cookies, sang carols, enjoyed a feast, and ended the night with popcorn and a movie. As the credits rolled and the last drop of wine was consumed this Christmas, a single tear fell down Olivia's face.

She missed her parents. She missed the life she hadn't lived. She had been alone for so long, and she was angry with herself for allowing these thoughts. The truth was that deep down she felt like her childhood had taught her that loving people, and letting people in, only ended with sadness. After her parents died, she had given up. She knew she could have fought to live what others might call a normal life. It was too late for her. She had made her choices, and she felt as though she had missed the opportunity to be someone who had people. She had herself. It had been enough.

But, as she climbed into bed on Christmas night, she realized she also missed work. She missed her, well, she missed her friends. She had asked Fitz last week what else he had learned about her, and he said the only thing he knew for sure was that there was more to her than met the eye. He was right about that. What he didn't know was that all that Olivia kept hidden has been thoughtfully placed out of the line of fire. She still didn't think she could share it with anyone. But there was something she wanted to do. She took out her Blackberry and composed an email message to Cyrus, Tom, Eleanor, Abby, Harrison and Fitz. It read:

**All,**  
**Hoping you all had joyful holiday celebrations.**  
**Merry Christmas,**  
**Olivia**

She was about to drift off to sleep when her phone blinked. She picked it up off of her nightstand and saw she had a message from Fitz.

**Are you alone?**  
**Fitz**

She thought about her reply. The wine, the day, compelled her to hit send before she could think it through.

**I'm always alone. I thought you knew that.**  
**Olivia**

She held her phone, waiting for a reply. Nothing came. Unwilling to consider what that meant, she threw her Blackberry to the ground, pulled the covers up, rolled over and drifted to sleep.

It wouldn't be until the next morning that she saw the four missed calls and multiple messages from Fitz, the final one indicating he was on his way to Los Angeles to see her.


	9. Chapter 9

When Olivia saw the message from Fitz on her phone, sent at 3:30am, she could feel her heart beating against her chest. The same paralysis she had felt other times when speaking with him set in, and she could not call him to tell him to stop nor get out of bed. It was now 9:30am. She hadn't heard any knocking, so he must have changed is mind. If he had really left when he had said he did, he would be here by now. Having somehow convinced herself that this was true, she slowly rolled out of her down-filled bed and started her day.

She examined her face in the bathroom mirror. The puffiness from the pervious day's tears was diminishing, and her eyes were only slightly red from the bottle of wine she had consumed. The hot shower was refreshing, and she dressed in comfortable leggings and oversize sweater. It was still in the 60s in Los Angeles, but she loved her winter clothes and didn't have plans to leave her apartment today. She flipped on the television and began working on reheating some Chinese food she had ordered on Christmas Eve. The perfect breakfast.

Just as she was setting her plate on the coffee table, she heard the knock. Her hands were shaking as she set the food down and walked toward the door. There was another knock. She undid the lock and slowly opened the door, fully expecting to see Fitz standing on her porch.

"Belated Merry Christmas, kid! Smells like kung pao in here. Hope there's some for me," Cyrus said, stepping toward her and hugging her. It was the first time they had hugged. Even after the convention it had been high-fives, handshakes, and half hugs. This was a full-on, two armed bear hug.

Olivia couldn't help but laugh. "I have plenty. I ordered enough to have it around for a few days. And, hello to you too, Cyrus."

He walked past her and immediately Olivia noticed four more beings making their way up the sidewalk on the ground level. Tock, first, walking slowly in front of Fitz who was holding his father's elbow, followed by Eleanor, who was carrying a picnic basket and a bouquet of flowers.

She pet Tock, even bending down to give him a kiss on the cheek which he happily returned. Standing, she met eyes with Fitz.

"Merry Christmas, Olivia. I hope you got my messages. We left as soon as everyone was awake."

"I saw them this morning, or I would have told you not to come," she said honestly.

Fitz starting forming a response, but Olivia put her hand up and stopped him.

"That said, it's nice to see you. All of you. This is quite a surprise."

She leaned over and kissed Tom's cheek. "Merry Christmas, Governor Grant. You're looking well."

"As are you, Olivia. I hope you don't mind us barging in like this. Fitz demanded that we all needed a road trip. Not sure what an old guy like me needs a road trip for, but the scenery wasn't bad, and I have my girl here," he said, nodding at Eleanor.

Olivia stepped around and kissed Eleanor on the cheek, taking the basket from her hands.

"He's having a better day," Eleanor whispered. "It's nice to see you."

"You too," Olivia said, and she found herself hugging this woman who was so kind and giving to Tom and his family. She had a special place in her heart for caregivers like Eleanor.

"Please, please, come in. I think I have just enough seats for all of you." Olivia followed the group and was the last person to enter her apartment. She realized standing on the porch that while a visit from Fitz, and just Fitz, might have been more than she could handle, a visit from this group might be just what she needed to get back to being herself.

Fitz looked around Olivia's apartment. It was small, she hadn't been kidding about that. But it felt like Olivia. Her keys were in a beautiful glass cherry blossom dish, and he imagined she put them there every evening and never misplaced them. She had a small desk with a chair in the living room, along with modestly-sized couch that faced the television. The color scheme – blue, green, grey, yellow – fit. When he thought of Olivia, those colors came to mind. There was a beautiful photograph of old Atlantic City hanging above her desk, and above the couch were photographs of other boardwalks: Ocean City, Maryland, Santa Monica, California, La Prom in Nice, France and what appeared to be someplace in Australia that he didn't recognize. There was a white leather chair, which Cyrus had already taken too, and the kitchen was behind a half wall beyond the hallway. That was all he could see, for now.

The group settled in and starting talking about the weather, their trip down the coast, their holidays. Olivia shared that she had had a quiet day, which was true. As she finished talking about _Miracle on 34__th__ Street_, she glanced at Fitz who was listening, and watching, intently.

"I noticed your photographs," he said, pointing around the room. "You have a thing for boardwalks, I take it?"

This felt like Monopoly. She could pass go and share, or she could stay on Park Place and skip her turn. The previous 24 hours of her life flashed before her eyes, and she decided to pass go.

"I grew up in New Jersey, and my parents and I spent a lot of afternoons in Atlantic City. I always thought that we would eventually visit other boardwalks since we had so much fun at our own. The photographs aren't mine, I mean, I didn't take them. I haven't been. But they remind me of the feelings I had there, joy, love, excitement. Plus I loved the elephant ears."

She had to take a deep breath when she finished speaking. It was audible, and Fitz gave her a small nod.

"I've never been to Atlantic City," Cyrus said. "Too many people." He was still chewing on what would have been Olivia's breakfast.

"Cyrus Beene, get over yourself. You thrive around too many people," Tom said.

The group laughed at this. Fitz looked at his dad with genuine love. Eleanor looked peaceful as she flipped through a magazine that had been on Olivia's coffee table.

The day unfolded organically. Tom needed a nap, so he used Olivia's guest room, which was really a den that just barely held a day bed. She used it as a place to store clean laundry before she had a chance to fold it. Eleanor used the car to visit her sister, and Cyrus remained in the chair, dozing off while cable news played on mute.

"I have to take Tock for a walk. Care to join us?" Fitz asked.

Passing go. Passing go.

"Sure."

Fitz couldn't mask his surprise, but soon found himself walking side by side with Olivia while Tock smelled all of the new nature at his disposal.

"What is Cyrus even doing here? Wasn't he in Connecticut?" Olivia asked.

"He was. There was some argument on Christmas Eve, he and James decided to leave. I don't know, we haven't talked much about it."

"Who's James?"

Fitz stopped to straighten Tock's collar. "James is Cyrus' boyfriend. Partner. You haven't met James?"

"I, no, I didn't realize he was seeing someone."

"Yeah, they've been together for six, seven years. James works in New York for CBS' news division. Field reporter, staff writer, that kind of thing. It's been hard on them since Cyrus moved out here."

"I can imagine. Well, I can't, actually. I mean, I'm sure it's been difficult."

Fitz laughed.

"That wasn't funny," Olivia said, though she couldn't help but smile.

"Not intentionally. Still funny, though."

They came to the beach path and exchanged a glance that affirmed they were both up for a little more walking. Fitz unhooked Tock's leash and he ran ahead, driven by the salty smell that was growing stronger as they got closer to the Pacific.

"Do you come down here often?" Fitz asked.

"Not really. It's a good 20 minute walk, and I don't always have that kind of time. Plus, at night, I'm not sure I'd want to do it by myself."

"Logical." Fitz said as they reached the opening.

They both looked left and right for Tock, and found him wrestling with some seaweed a few feet from where the waves were slowly rolling onto shore. Olivia laughed.

"He's a doofus. But I love him."

"He's a good dog, I can tell."

"I hoped it would be okay that I brought him. I didn't want to leave him in San Fran indefinitely."

"It's fine, he's always welcome."

The wind blew Olivia's hair in her eyes, so she reached for the elastic around her wrist and put her hair into a pony tail.

"Here we are, at your ocean," Fitz said. "No boardwalk here, though."

"No boardwalk. That's why I have the photographs. Good memories."

"Where's your dad now?"

She knew this was coming. She had mentioned parents, and yet had only ever really spoken about her mother. A deep breath of ocean air, and she looked away from Fitz as she answered.

"He's passed."

"Oh, Olivia, I'm sorry, I didn't realize," Fitz said.

"How would you have realized? Oh wait, that's right, you had someone look into me."

"I had asked, but then after my birthday, I never followed up. I didn't know about your dad. I'm sorry."

"Me too. He died not long after my mother, less than a year."

"Shit. That's, well, that's," Fitz said.

"Shitty?"

They both laughed. Olivia felt the odd dual feeling of a weight being removed from her heart and guilt for allowing it.

"Yes, that it is. I'm sorry you went through that."

"It happens. It happened to me. That's the way I tend to look at it."

"That doesn't make it any less sad. It's not like you deserved it."

"I agree. I don't think anyone deserves it. I sometimes think about my response though, my choices. I was thinking about them last night. I made a decision as a seventh grader that I wouldn't let it get me off track. It didn't, but the track has been solitary. I closed all entrances and exits, stayed on the track while allowing nobody to help. That's why I'm me. That, I deserve."

They had made it to the shore, to Tock. Fitz bent down to clean up some of the seaweed that was stuck around his face. He turned to look at Olivia.

"You deserve to be alone because as a thirteen year old kid you cut yourself off from the world?"

Olivia said nothing. The way he said it sounded so juvenile, immature. That wasn't how she viewed it all. But wasn't it the truth, just simplified?

"I'm not sure it's that simple. But yeah, I mean, I'm me because of what I did. How I responded. How I proceeded. That's a fact."

"True, but your parents died. That's devastating. I don't think you should hold yourself to the rules you set ten years ago based on some principle in your mind."

Olivia's eyes filled with tears.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to make you cry, shit," Fitz said, wiping his hands on his jeans. He stepped toward her, outstretching is arms. Olivia retreated.

"You're right. It is devastating. I don't usually allow myself to use words like that. But yesterday, Christmas, you know, it's more present than it usually is."

Fitz took a hint and aborted his plan to hug her. Hold her. He crossed his arms and just looked at her.

"You know, my mom died here."

"What?" Olivia said, wiping her tears.

"Not here, like in this very spot. But she died in the ocean when I was just about two years old. She fell off of a boat and by the time anyone realized it, she was gone."

"Fitz, my god, that's awful. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. I've had 33 years to process it, and I barely knew her. But your comment about the thoughts of your parents being more present today than other days made me think. I might not think about my mom every day, in fact I probably don't think about her enough. But she's always here." He touched his heart. "She always present, if I want her to be."

Olivia whispered something that was inaudible because of the ocean. Fitz asked her to repeat it.

"Does it help, to keep her close?"

"It does. Especially now, with my dad. I've always had him pushing me forward, whether I liked it or not. It's odd to have our relationship shift. Thinking about my mom, doing things to make her proud, it does help to keep her somewhere I can feel."

This approach was the exact opposite of how Olivia had lived her life. They both knew it. She shivered.

"Let's head back. Tock! Come on, boy." Instinctively, he put his arm around Olivia's waist and started to lead her toward the sidewalk. She didn't stop him, but she her body was tense. He mind was racing. Fitz could tell, so he just left his arm barely touching her back as three of them walked, or trotted, in Tock's case, back to Olivia's apartment.


	10. Chapter 10

Fitz, Cyrus, Eleanor and Tom left later that day after they all enjoyed breakfast for dinner. The picnic basket Eleanor had packed contained eggs, English muffins, breakfast meats and oranges for fresh-squeezed juice. It wasn't lost on Olivia that Fitz must have been the orchestrator of the meal.

As the group made their way to the car, Fitz took one last look around the apartment to make sure he had gathered all of Tock's toys.

"What's on tap for the rest of your week?" Olivia asked.

"I'll be here. Heading back to Washington for the inauguration events and session work after the first of the year. You?" Fitz tossed a braided rope toy to Tock, and then with the snap of a finger and a wave of his hand sent him toward the car.

"Oh, you know, parties, late nights, general debauchery."

"Olivia Pope, did you just make a joke?"

"How'd I do?" Olivia laughed.

"Just fine. What are you doing for New Year's Eve?"

"Oh I don't know. I usually watch the ball drop. Maybe I'll see what Abby is up to." That was a lie. Olivia had no plans to make plans for New Year's.

"Okay. Look, I had a great day today. I hope you don't mind us imposing. Thanks for having us over uninvited."

"I was happy to have company. Thanks for," Olivia stopped. What did she want to thank Fitz for?

"Thank you for somehow knowing I might not want to spend another day alone."

"You're welcome. If your New Year's plans change, give me a call. I haven't figure out," Fitz began.

"No worries, Fitz. I'll be okay down here."

Fitz wasn't trying to make sure she would be okay. Fitz was trying to figure out if she wanted to spend time alone with him. He could tell she wasn't. Might never be. He took the hint.

"Got it. Enjoy the last week of 2004."

"Same to you. Safe travels. Hug everyone else for me."

The words left her mouth without a second thought. Inexplicably, Olivia thought. She wasn't a hugger, and had in fact avoided one from Fitz on the beach. Now, she found him walking toward the door, where she was standing, and before she could figure a way out of it Fitz set down the bag he was carrying and put his arms around her for a quick hug.

He breathed in her hair. Lavender. He felt the way her small frame was enveloped by his. He could feel her heart beating. Or maybe it was his. He tried to take mental notes about how this felt knowing it might be the only opportunity he would ever have to be this close to her. Despite what he saw as a growing friendship, she had shied away from spending any time alone with him and he didn't know how else to communicate his wishes. He just wanted to spend time with her, talk to her, see her. Know her. She clearly did not feel the same way.

Olivia sunk in Fitz's embrace. She smelled his soap, which was now mixed with the smell of sea salt. His arms engulfed her. She could feel his heart beating. Or maybe it was hers. She was touched by the gestures he had made today, by bringing his family, taking her to the beach, sharing a part of himself with her. She couldn't deny that talking to him was perhaps easier for her than it had been with anyone else in her life. Their friendship seemed to be growing, and though she didn't know what that meant, or how to move forward, she was willing to concede that today had meant something. She wondered if he could feel that as she allowed herself to be hugged.

It probably only lasted for three seconds, but for both Fitz and Olivia, the hug had changed things. What neither of them realized, however, was that Olivia felt like she was moving toward something, while Fitz felt as though he was walking away.

* * *

Olivia's New Year's Eve was exactly what she had foreseen. She watched the festivities in New York, ate a prepared meal from Whole Foods and was in bed just after midnight. When she awoke, she turned on her computer to check the on the news. She browsed the San Francisco Chronicle's website and found Fitz's name mentioned in a headline about a New Year's Eve gala and fundraiser at a museum. She clicked on the article and found a photograph of Fitz and Kimberly, his assistant, whom Olivia had met at his birthday dinner. They were stunning. Both of them. The article was fairly run of the mill. Fitz had attended the event and given a short speech. The last line of the article caught Olivia's attention.

_Senator Grant and his significant other, Kimberly Green, both said they were thrilled at the turnout at the event and that they hoped the fundraiser would continue to bring attention to a cause dear to them both._

Olivia scanned the article again. It was an event that had raised money for a private company that was researching different methods for harvesting and using stem cells in the medical field. Fitz's presence at the gala made sense. That he had failed to mention that Kimberly was his girlfriend shouldn't have surprised her. There wasn't a time when it would have come up. They were barely friends, and they certainly weren't the kind to talk about their personal lives. What struck Olivia was that one of the things she thought she had in common with Fitz was the general lack of a personal life. It was surprising to hear that he was seeing someone. It was odd to see him next to her in the newspaper.

As if she had been reading Olivia's mind, Abby's phone number showed up on Olivia's phone.

"Abby, hi. Happy new year."

"Happy new year, Liv. Did you see the Chronicle? Did you know the guy we're working for was dating his assistant?"

"I saw it. I did not."

"What the hell? I spoke with Fitz two days ago, and he asked me what we, you and me, were doing for New Year's. When I told him we didn't have plans, he seemed surprised, I don't know. Why would he ask me that when he was taking his never-mentioned girlfriend to a fancy party?"

"Abby, you know I can't explain this. Maybe they just started dating. Maybe it was supposed to be under the radar. Fitz doesn't have to tell us about his personal life."

Abby sighed. "I guess. It's just bizarre, that's all. In all of our conversations, he never even brought her up. They barely spoke at his birthday dinner! He spent more time talking to you than he did to her. I don't like not knowing things. I guess that's why this bugs me. But you're right. He doesn't have to share."

They discussed their plans for the upcoming week and Abby convinced Olivia to meet her at a nearby salon for a manicure before they headed back to work. Olivia usually did her own nails, but she relinquished, and offered to bring coffee.

As she tidied up her apartment, Olivia thought about what Abby had told her. Fitz had asked about their plans. He had also asked Olivia before heading home the day after Christmas. Her brain made the connection. He had wanted to know what her plans were. She just didn't understand why. But, she concluded, it didn't matter. Fitz was her friend, someone she worked with and she didn't need to concern herself with any details other than those.

Abby hung up with Liv and thought about what she knew. She knew that Olivia was used to be alone, that she didn't have many friends and, in fact, preferred to be alone. She knew Fitz found her alluring. His behavior at his birthday party, and Olivia's recounting of the day after Christmas, made that obvious. Abby wasn't qualified to make judgments about the private lives of others, given her propensity for bad choices. But it didn't make sense to her that Fitz and Olivia seemed to be moving in circles, with neither being able, or wiling, to move toward the center.

She smiled, thinking about Harrison's surprise on New Year's Eve. They had decided to have dinner, as friends, at a sushi restaurant they both enjoyed. Abby had been glad for the invitation. Aside from her sister, she didn't have a lot of friends left in Los Angeles. Harrison had looked so handsome when she stepped out of the cab at the restaurant to find him waiting for her outside. He was also holding flowers. Abby, unlike Olivia who would have taken more than a moment to figure out what that meant, knew immediately that his suggestion of dinner meant more than she realized. She also knew immediately that she was happy it did. Their evening had ended with them sharing a back to Abby's, where Harrison asked it to wait while he walked her to her door. A sweet kiss, followed by a late-night phone conversation, and Abby felt for the first time in months like things in her life were moving forward. Now, she needed to help her new friend Olivia start moving in the same direction.

Fitz saw the photograph in the newspaper as he ate breakfast with his father on New Year's Day. It named Kimberly as his significant other. That the fact was wrong didn't bother him. This happened frequently given his age and his martial status. If he so much as stood next to a woman, she as often labeled as his girlfriend. Kimberly was a great assistant. They had known each other for many years, but they were not seeing each other outside of the office. He had asked her to attend the function with him at the last minute. He had had her RSVP for two months ago, and he didn't want the food to go to waste if he didn't bring a guest. She had been happy to oblige as her actual boyfriend was a captain in the United States' Navy, serving overseas. It wasn't the first time she had been rumored to be his girlfriend, something they both found amusing.

When his cell phone rang, he saw that it was Abby. He excused himself from the table and answered.

"Abby, hi."

"Hi Fitz. Sorry to bother you on the holiday. Happy new year."

"Same to you. Did you have a nice evening?"

"I did, somewhat surprisingly, yes."

"Did you end up seeing Olivia?"

"I didn't. I had dinner with a friend. How was your evening?"

"Good. I was at a benefit, we raised some money, good food. No complaints."

"About that," Abby said. "How long have you been dating your assistant? Sorry, I know it isn't my business, at least that's what Liv told me, but I'm curious so I thought I would go straight to the source."

"I'm not dating Kimberly. This happens a lot. She was just going with me as a favor."

Silence.

"Abby?"

"Sorry, I was just thinking. That makes sense. Sorry again for butting in, it's sort of what I do. Thanks for clearing it up."

Fitz remembered something Abby had said. "Wait, you talked about this with Olivia?"

"Yeah. We chatted this morning about something else, and she had seen the photo before I told her about it."

"She had."

"Yes."

Silence.

"Fitz? You there?"

Fitz cleared his throat. "Yes, sorry. Well, I'm sorry you felt for a second like I was holding out on you. But there's nothing to report. Kimberly's boyfriend is overseas, so sometimes she helps me out and accompanies me to things. That's it. Abby, listen, I have to run. I left my dad at the breakfast table."

"Sure thing. Talk to you next week. Have a safe trip back east."

As Abby hung up, she smiled. She knew what she needed to know.

As Fitz hung up, he grimaced. He didn't want Olivia to think he was seeing someone. It had taken him more than five months, but it finally hit him. What she knew about him, what she thought about him and most importantly, how he felt about her, mattered.


	11. Chapter 11

Author's note: All, this is my first every fanfiction story. That said, all of your reviews mean a lot. Thank you for your interest and your kind words. I'd say we're about halfway through this story, though given that my outline has changed numerous times, don't hold me to that! Thanks for reading. This chapter should remind you of Chapter 1, where we got to know Olivia. This is Fitz's chapter.

* * *

Fitz had been asked about his private nature countless times. His father had been his biggest supported and his biggest critic. For ten years, they had lived without a female presence to counter their brooding, solitary natures. The sadness and shock of his mother's death had left Fitz all alone in a big house with a grieving father. His extended family worked tirelessly to make sure Fitz still led the seemingly charmed life into which he was born. He played sports, but had only teammates, not friends. It was a mutual decision. He didn't want to bring anyone home, and though he charmed the parents of his football teammates, the people his age found him to be too quiet, or too smart, or too withdrawn, or all of the above. Soon, he became accustomed to spending his time after school either alone, or with his father. The time spent alone was spent writing, reading, playing video games (he was a pre-teen boy, after all) and taking walks. He didn't consider himself unhappy. He just found that after enough time spent trying to make friends with kids his age, enough was enough.

When his father remarried and was seemingly released from his decade-long grief process, Tom had been adamant that Fitz make friends. There were forced, awkward functions planned with other families. Fitz could get along with everyone well enough. He wasn't disliked, but he wasn't outgoing enough to warrant a second get-together. Tom chastised him for being shy. Even as a teenager, Fitz knew he wasn't particularly shy, he just didn't have the inner motivation to care about what others thought of him. He would sit next to his father at his favorite pizza place, making conversation with the lieutenant governor's daughter, and his thoughts would drift to the ocean, or to a book he was reading. Later, his father would pepper him with questions, seeking to finally hear Fitz say he had made a connection. It never happened.

That is, until he met Greg Marshall during his freshman year at Harvard. They came from similar backgrounds (only children, single parent upbringings, Greg's due to divorce) and therefore often found themselves doing things alone in the same space. Fitz noticed right away that while he read The New Yorker on Saturday evenings in the quad, Greg would be writing in a journal on a nearby bench. Finally, fate intervened and they found each other standing in line at the cafeteria. Greg asked him if he had liked that month's cartoon caption, and a friendship was started.

Greg and Fitz's friendship worked because neither of them had high expectations, and because neither of them really had anyone else. Greg, a political science major, and Fitz, double majoring in history and pre-law, could debate each other for hours. At first, while drinking coffee and people-watching in the lounge, and later, over beers in Boston. Fitz found that friendship had its merits, a lesson he had needed to learn on his own instead of having it be forced upon him by his father, step-mother or school counselor.

Fitz didn't have girlfriends. His course load was significant, as he had added the history major against the advice of his advisor because he wanted to do more than just prepare himself for law school. But that wasn't really why he didn't have time for a girlfriend. It had taken him 16 years to make a friend; he didn't have the capacity to make room for a second person who needed anything from him. There were girls, and there were dates, but they never amounted to anything. Greg, on the other hand, had no problem making room for women. By the time graduation rolled around, Greg was seriously dating Melody Walker, or Mellie, who would later become his wife.

Mellie was fascinated by Fitz. Not because she found him particularly attractive or interesting, but because he seemingly had everything and yet seemed so alone. Where Greg had felt that way at first, throughout the course of their relationship he had opened himself up and they were on their way to a beautiful marriage. Mellie came from a family similar to Fitz's; her father was a well-known public figure as the mayor of Chicago and she had been told from a young age that she was destined for greatness. Fitz's reaction to the world around him were so different from other young men like him. Mellie often wondered aloud to Greg about his lack of friends or companions. She also often teased Fitz about how his small, if not nonexistent, circle would be a hindrance to his eventual run for public office. After graduation, Greg and Fitz both stayed in Boston for law school. Mellie had dinner with them before she departed for business school at Northwestern.

"_Fitz, Greg tells me you decided not to intern this summer. What will you do instead?"_

"_I'm heading to Europe. I figure I'll have a lot of time to work, probably for every summer for the rest of my life. I want to see some sights, take in some of the world with no distractions."_

_Mellie smiled. "How did your dad take that news?"_

_Fitz told the story of Tom's reaction, which of course had been one of disbelief, followed by disappointment. Fitz had tried to explain that he was still on track, he was still working toward a bigger goal. He didn't think one summer of travel would screw up his plan. Tom disagreed, but finally gave in._

"_Well, kudos, Fitz. Only someone as charismatic as you, coming from your family, gets away with that."_

When Fitz and Greg had graduated from law school, Fitz was set to return to California to begin working for the city. Greg was headed to Chicago to work for Mellie's father while she completed graduate school. They were reunited when Fitz needed a campaign manager and could think of no one better than Greg to do it. Mellie was also a part of the team as a strategist and advisor. She no longer worked on Fitz's staff, as having a toddler at home limited her availability. The last time Fitz had seen Mellie, they had had a typical conversation for them. She called it like she saw it, and she was right. It was the night of his 35th birthday dinner.

"_Fitzgerald, you are staring," Mellie said, rocking her daughter on her lap._

_Fitz smiled. Mellie sounded like a mother._

"_I'm sorry, what? Just tell me, Mellie. What am I doing wrong and how can I fix it?"_

"_That woman, who was she, someone working on your exploratory committee? She just ran out of here and you are staring as if you might cry. Now, I don't want to make assumptions, but my eyes do not deceive me. You are staring and you are frozen. Stand up, and go after her."_

"_She won't like that. I barely, it's not, I wouldn't know what to say."_

"_Start with, 'I'm sorry,' and see what happens. You're a senator for crying out loud. Figure it out." Mellie pushed his arm with her free hand._

_He turned. "Yeah?"_

"_Go!" She waved him away, and he exited the restaurant in pursuit of Olivia. _

Fitz found himself recalling that night as he sat in a window seat on a flight from D.C. to San Francisco. It was nearly April, and he had barely been in California since the inauguration. It didn't make sense for him to travel back and forth before the state of the union address, so he worked from his Washington office and had nightly conversations with Cyrus about business and Eleanor or his father, if Tom was up to it. Tom was, unfortunately, in a slow decline that the doctors had predicted. Fitz was planning on spending an extended period in California to help Eleanor, assess the situation and decide how to proceed. It sounded so clinical, and he was humbled by the role reversal as he took care of his dad. What he had decided, and run by Cyrus, was that his father needed to be in San Francisco. It didn't make sense for him to be in L.A., given he rarely left home alone and seeing him was difficult even when Fitz was in the same state. Cyrus understood, and agreed, and had decided that the team working on Project P should be based near Fitz's home office. Fitz had been hoping for this since the day the team was formed, and everyone was seemingly on board.

Ever since his conversation with Abby, there had been one more phone call he had been making regularly. To Olivia, every Friday, around the time she would be on her way home from the office. It was on his calendar. It was often a short conversation, but it gave them the opportunity to talk about everyday things. The weather. The latest episode of _The Sopranos_. The newest research. Anything that wasn't heavy. Fitz's thought was that he and Olivia needed to get used to talking to each other about things other than the sadness that had originally bonded them. He also just liked hearing her voice. She had sounded upbeat about her move to San Francisco when he called her from the airport before he caught the last flight to SFO. That made him happy. He thought about Mellie, pushing him out of the door on his birthday. He thought about Abby, who had been calling him with project updates on speakerphone so that he and Olivia had other opportunities to talk. There seemed to be people who knew more about this than he did who were trying to move him in the direction he wanted to go.

When he landed, he headed to baggage claim, grabbed his garment bag and walked outside to wait for his car. People stopped to shake his hand, a group of women asked him to pose for a photo, and he was relieved with Greg's car pulled up to the curb. He was surprised, however, to see Abby in the driver's seat.

"Hi Fitz. I hope you don't mind, we just got settled and were having dinner when we realized it was time to pick you up. Greg was waiting for a fax, Mellie was at home with the baby, so I offered to come get you."

"No problem. Thanks for doing it. The cab line is always bad on Friday nights." He put his bags in the trunk and got into the passenger seat.

"Good flight?" Abby asked as she pulled away from the curb.

"Smooth sailing. What about you guys? How was the move? Is everyone settled?"

Abby seized the opportunity. "As smooth as possible, I would say. Harrison and I decided to get one place. You know, we're dating, so, yeah, there's that."

"What? Why am I not told these things? That's, wow. Good for you guys. Harrison scares me in a good way. He's almost too savvy." Fitz meant it. He respected Harrison's work and work ethic.

"Thanks. Happened on New Year's Eve. It's been good."

They drove for a minute without speaking.

"So, speaking of New Year's." She glanced at Fitz, who turned to look at her.

"Speaking of?"

"It seems like, I don't want to jump to conclusions, but when you asked me about my plans, you also asked about Olivia's. Were you going to ask her to go with you to that fundraiser?"

Fitz debated, quickly, heard Mellie's "Go!" in his head, and answered.

"I wasn't going to ask her. I wanted to, but I probably wasn't going to, if I'm being honest."

"Because you knew she'd say no?"

"Because I knew she'd say no."

"But then the next day, when we spoke, you seemed bothered that she had seen the photo. And since, you've been calling, and I hear you when you talk to her at the office."

"You know I've been calling?"

"I mean, Olivia and I are friends. So when she mentioned it once, I made a note. The second time, well, I may have been born at night," Abby said.

"But it wasn't last night," Fitz finished.

"Exactly. So we're on the same page then?"

Fitz might have made some forward progress, but he was suddenly the lost twelve year old struggling to make friends.

"I don't know. What page is that?"

"The one where you have realized that Olivia is a one-in-a-million woman who needs to be in your life and you're willing to move at a snail's pace if that's what it takes?"

Fitz laughed. Abby took that as confirmation.

"Excellent. Well, we're here now. Let me know if I can help."

"Abby, do you think," Fitz said, but he didn't know how to finish.

"Do I think she will ever get there?"

Fitz nodded.

"I think Liv is a different person today than she was eight months ago. I think anything is possible."

That was all Fitz needed. He was here. When he closed his eyes, he saw the blue, grey, yellow and green of her apartment. He remembered the smell of her hair when he had decided to let her go. He remembered the look in her eyes on the deck the day they had met. The sound of her voice when she had said, "I'm with you." It didn't matter that the pace was slow. She was Olivia. He was Fitz. Now that he had her closer than ever, in a place where he could feel her presence, he was hopeful that Abby was right. That anything was possible.


	12. Chapter 12

Olivia stood in the middle of her new apartment, which was in the Marina neighborhood of San Francisco. Abby and Harrison were nearby in Inner Sunset, while Fitz's home was in Nob Hill. Their office, also in Nob Hill, was walking distance for Olivia, which was one of her favorite things about her new city. She had sold her car back to the dealership in favor of a bigger apartment with a few for the San Francisco Bay, and thus far, she didn't regret that choice. She had public transportation options, she had friends with cars, and she had her own two feet.

Many of the elements from her L.A. apartment had made the trip with her. The boardwalk photographs, the colorful throw pillows, the feather bedding. But she had splurged on new furniture, which is why she was now standing in the middle of an empty apartment with only a white leather chair and a television on the floor. She was expecting Abby and Harrison any minute. They had made plans to be at her place when the furniture delivery occurred to help Olivia make organizational decisions and also just to hang out. It had been three weeks since they had moved to San Francisco, and their work schedule combined with the process of moving had left little time for them to see each other outside of the office.

She heard a knock, called, "Come in!" and was surprised before turning around not to hear the constant conversation that follow Harrison and Abby wherever they went. She loved that about them. The quietness startled her, so she turned, and there was Fitz. He was holding a pizza box, a rental from Blockbuster and a bottle of wine.

"Hi there. Sorry to sneak up on you like that. Abby called and told me you needed help with the furniture guys. I thought we could have lunch while we waited."

"Hi," Olivia said slowly, connecting dots as she moved toward Fitz to take the pizza from his hands.

"Sorry, I can go if you'd rather do this alone," Fitz said.

"I wouldn't, no, but I thought Abby and Harrison were free today. We had made plans," Olivia had a thoughtful look on her face as she slowly processed this ambush.

"I see. I brought _The Incredibles_, " he said, holding up the movie. "Thought it might be something mindless for us to enjoy while we wait. But, like I said," Fitz trailed off.

The pizza box was warm in Olivia's hands. She knew what this was. Though she wanted to ask him to leave more than anything, here Fitz was, standing in her beautiful, if empty, apartment, making it feel slightly less empty than it had just minutes before. And slightly more beautiful.

"Let's do it. I'm famished. Please tell me there is sausage and banana peppers on this pizza."

"Absolutely. We've had plenty of late nights the last few weeks, and nobody forgets that pizza order."

Three hours later, an entire pizza consumed along with an entire bottle of wine, a cartoon movie watched, but still no word from the furniture company. Olivia felt light. She glanced at Fitz as he put their trash into the bag hanging from the door.

"I'll take this out. Be right back."

Without a second thought, Olivia grabbed her phone and called Abby.

"Liv! Hi. How's it going?" Abby said with feigned innocence.

"It's going fine, thanks. Imagine my surprise when the senator showed up instead of you, despite us confirming our plans this morning. I feel duped. I feel silly. I feel," Olivia said.

"A little drunk? Kinda happy?"

Olivia sighed. "Maybe."

"Where's Fitz now? Tell me you aren't in the bathroom like in the movies, whispering, thinking he can't hear you."

"He's at the dumpster. We finished the pizza. And the wine. And a cartoon movie I enjoyed more than I probably should have."

"Liv, just enjoy yourself. Sounds like you have this handled. Talk soon!"

Before Olivia could say anything else, Abby ended the call. Fitz returned to her apartment and washed his hands. As he came around to the living room from the kitchen, they found themselves standing in the middle of her basically empty apartment with nothing left to do.

"You mentioned yesterday on the phone that you were liking the neighborhood," Fitz said, walking toward the French doors that led to Olivia's balcony. "I can see why."

"It's lovely here. I'm glad you suggested we make the move. It's been, I don't know, freeing or something. Clean slate."

Fitz turned. "I absolutely understand."

"How's your father? Yesterday was better, right?"

"He's okay. We're meeting with one more specialist next week, but it's feeling like he might be headed toward either an increased house staff or some sort of assisted living. Eleanor, God bless her, it's just too much for her to do alone."

"Make sense. My mother, you know, she was in the hospital for most of the last six months. We brought her home, for the end. But if you have the means to make your dad comfortable, let him live with dignity in a place that can take care of him while still giving him a life, that sounds like a good option, all things considered."

"Wise as always, Olivia."

"Must have been the wine."

Fitz laughed. He turned back to the balcony, sighed, then turned back around to face her.

"Olivia, I have a very serious question for you."

Olivia's heart sank. She just titled her head a little and waited.

"Where in God's name is this furniture? The sun is setting."

Olivia laughed. A hearty, real laugh.

"That wasn't supposed to be funny," Fitz said while chuckling.

"It's not, it's not what I thought you were going to say. I should check my email or messages, maybe something happened."

"What did you think I was going to say?"

Olivia looked up from where she had been looking for her phone in the cushion of the lone chair in the room.

"What?"

"You said, you didn't think my question was going to be about the furniture. What did you think it was going to be about?"

This felt like a test. She knew it was. She and Fitz spoke regularly. She knew more about his daily life, his routines, what he thought about on the train, the television shows he liked, more than she had ever planned to know. She knew that Abby had sent him here today. She got the feeling that Fitz had been the plan all along.

"I don't know. I thought you might ask about the new stem cell recommendations from The Academies."

"That's," Fitz began. "That's something I do want to talk with you about. But I think you're lying."

"Why would I lie?" Olivia had a poker face that normally worked without fail. But the combination of factors today was putting some kinks in her armor.

Fitz walked toward her.

"Because we're friends, and while you're glad we are, you're scared that I'm here today because I wanted to be alone, with you, outside of work."

Fitz was less than a foot away. Her heart was racing. He mind was fuzzy. She knew this feeling, had felt it a few times before, but only in the last year, and only with Fitz. So while she had made it as far as understanding the connection, she still didn't understand what it meant.

"Scared."

Fitz waited.

"That's one way to describe it."

"Is there another way?" Fitz asked, and he slowly took a piece of Olivia's hair and tucked it behind her ear. He entire body shook.

"Petrified? That's a synonym. Nervous? Out of control?"

"I know."

"You do?"

"I do, because I feel the same. But I've had some time to wrap my brain around the fact that this," he made a gesture pointing at both of them and the space between, "this is special. It's worth, I don't know, pursuing. Even if we just become better friends, I want to. I want to do things with only you. And not just have weekly phone conversations, which I've enjoyed very much, by the way."

Olivia waited a beat, finding she couldn't respond to everything he had just offered, but she could agree about the phone conversations. She waited for them, and they made her happy.

"Me too. The phone calls."

"Excellent. So we agree that we are enjoying getting to know each other. That's a starting point." He moved closer, closing the gap. He put one hand on her shoulder and the other he used to put the same stubborn piece of hair behind her ear. He leaned down and whispered,

"As long as you agree, that's enough for me."

Olivia looked at him. She was glad he had whispered, because there was no way she could speak using her full voice. Her body was on fire. The place where his hand rested on her shoulder felt like it might crumble. She was spellbound, and like she had told Abby, a little drunk and kinda happy, so she replied the only way she could think of.

"If it really is enough, then I agree."

Fitz wanted to kiss her. He had never really wanted to kiss a woman, despite having kissed a few during his time at Harvard. He had the urge to put his hands on either side of her face and kiss her. But he felt like they had just had a breakthrough, both of them, and he didn't want to ruin it, so instead he backed up, noticing that Olivia seemed both thrilled and disappointed when his hand left her arm, and smiled.

"April 2005, mark the date. Olivia Pope and Fitz Grant agree to be friends. This is a big deal."

She smiled, though she was still in a weird haze. She thought Fitz might kiss her and that had set off alarm bells. She was mostly glad he hadn't. They were agreeing to be friends. What sounded to her like real friends.

"Is it, a big a deal? It's not like what I said mattered, you had this plan all along, I'm sure."

"Details."

He gathered the lightweight jacket he had worn over, checked his pockets for his phone and keys and stepped closer to Olivia.

"Enjoy your weekend, Livi. Olivia. Sorry."

"Livi?"

"Was that weird?"

"Yes."

"Sorry. Inner monologue."

"Not bad weird, though." Olivia thought this might have ben the most honest she had been with Fitz in all the time that she knew him.

This time it was Fitz who had a fuzzy mind. He walked to the door, stopped and turned.

"Goodnight, Livi."

"Goodnight, Senator."

Fitz stopped. "Wait. You said you only called me Senator when you were upset."

"Your memory is scary good."

"I remember all of our conversations."

"Clearly. I'm not upset. I just need to sit. In this one chair. And think for a minute."

"Okay, good. Think for a minute."

"Goodnight, Fitz."

"Goodnight." Fitz closed the door softly behind him.

One minute and one second later, Olivia's phone blinked. She had a message.

**Any revelations in that one minute?**  
**Fitz**

**Nothing coherent.**  
**Olivia**

**Still friends?**  
**Fitz**

**Still friends.**  
**Livi**


	13. Chapter 13

Liv. Olivia. Livi. She now had people in her life that called her by nicknames. She had grown to like Liv, as she had grown to view Harrison, Abby and Cyrus as friends. Throughout the first part of 2005, she had had countless dinners with a combination of the three of them and had been sharing parts of herself with them, as they did with her. Abby now knew about her mother. Harrison knew about her studies at Princeton. Cyrus knew that she knew about James. She was feeling secure in those three friendships. Just thinking that thought was significant, let alone actually believing it. But she did.

Her friendship with Fitz, on the other hand, made her feel anything but comfortable. Well, not exactly. It made her feel things she could not articulate. Well, not exactly. It made her feel things she had only seen in movies, or read about in literature. She had never experienced the overall warmth of another person's touch the way she had with Fitz the day they waited for her furniture. She understood that the connection they were building was, to use his word, special. It had begun months ago when he had found her standing outside of Tom's old house in Los Angeles. She had felt in then, just as she had felt it on the deck, and on his birthday outside of the restaurant. Deep down, she knew what it was. She truly hadn't understood it before, but now, she knew. She knew there was an attraction, a force, that was pulling them toward each other despite her best efforts to stop it.

They had things in common. If Olivia hadn't noticed before, she knew now. On the surface, they had similar interests. They enjoyed spending their time doing similar activities. They had professional goals that including helping others. But the more striking similarities, the ones that scared Olivia the most, were the fundamental traits they both shared. The familiarity, the preference, of being alone. The lost wish of having a mother's guidance. The lack of experience with friends or significant personal relationships. The feeling that wasn't exactly hopelessness, but more like acceptance, of life as they knew it.

Olivia felt like life as she knew it was over. This revelation happened when she walked into Fitz's senatorial office the following Friday evening to review the new guidelines published by the National Academies for embryonic stem cell research. The report had been published two weeks prior, and it followed an interesting year of debate in the field. She had read it, but she had been happy that Fitz had wanted to discuss it with her. But the revelation, the moment, when she walked into his office to find him sitting at his desk, feet up, flipping through notes while jazz music played in the background. That moment wasn't because of their shared interest in scientific issues. That moment was because she realized she had been looking forward to this "meeting" since it had been scheduled, and further, that she had felt for Fitz something stronger than she had felt for another person in all of her 23 and a half years. She wanted to be here, in this moment, with Fitz.

He hadn't heard her come in, so she set her bag down on the chair to snap him out of his reading haze. He looked up, smiled, then stood up.

"Olivia, hi. How was your week?"

He took her coat and hung it on the rack behind his desk.

"Good, thanks. You know we're making some headway with the website developers, and I've been helping Harrison put out some fires on the finance issues."

"Excellent. I'm glad you're here. I have some food coming, thought we could just use my office since the chairs are the most comfortable. Does that work?"

He gathered some papers and a pen from his desk and joined her near the sitting area in the corner of his office. He sat down. She remained standing. He hadn't picked up on her having a moment of clarity on a random Friday evening in May.

"Olivia? You okay?"

"Senator, Fitz. I'm. I'm going to sit."

Before she could, Fitz was on his feet in front of her.

"Do you need some water? I think Kimberly is still here. I can have her bring in some ice."

She put up her hand to stop him from talking. He was talking too much. She rested her hand on his chest, over his heart. There was a hitch in his breath.

"I don't need water."

He put his hand over hers, held it, and lowered their arms so they were standing there holding hands.

"You don't need water. What do you need?"

Olivia closed her eyes. She remembered a time when she had been at the boardwalk with her parents, and she had lost the ring toss game for the third straight time. With tears in her eyes, she faced her father who had been standing behind her, watching her struggle. He had asked her then what she needed, and when she told him that she needed to win, he told her that all she needed to do was try.

"I need to try to be honest with you. I'm not sure what that means. But I need a minute. To try."

She dropped his hand and made her way to the chair across from the couch. Fitz remained silent but sat opposite her.

"You said some things to me at my apartment. You said that what we have might be special. I felt at the time like I couldn't understand that. Like it was out of my realm of understanding. Which I know sounds odd, since I understand a lot of things."

Fitz smiled.

"I was surprised that Abby had orchestrated it, and then realized that you had probably helped. Or suggested. Or something. When you said it was worth pursuing, I so wanted to agree with you. But I wasn't sure if I could. When you said all I had to do was agree to being friends, that that was enough, I was so relieved. Like, okay, we can just be friends and that will be hard enough, but enough."

"But then you touched me, and I felt this feeling. I recognized it because I had felt it the first day we met. And a few other days in between then and now."

Fitz finally spoke up. "My birthday?"

"Yes."

"Me too."

"You don't even know what feeling I'm talking about," Olivia said.

"Dry throat, nauseous, spinning mind, paralysis, warm, incomprehensible fear, dizziness?"

Olivia smiled. "Yes, yes, and yes."

"So then I can relate. Please continue."

"Where was I?"

"You had a feeling…"

"I had a feeling, and the inability to name it combined with not knowing what to do next left me almost speechless. Almost. But I wanted to keep getting to know you, and so I agreed. And just now, when I walked in here and saw you, I felt it."

Fitz sat up on the couch. "And?"

"That's it! There's no 'and.' I felt it. I recognized it. I'm telling you this because, well, I honestly don't know why."

"I'm glad you are."

"You are?"

He stood and closed the gap between them. He took the same hand he had been holding ever so briefly moments before and lifted her out of her chair. He raised her hand to his cheek, and leaned his head into it and closed his eyes. When he opened them, she was staring not into his eyes, but at the hands on his cheek.

"You feel it?" Fitz asked.

Olivia nodded.

"Me too." He let her hand go. "It's here, and it's real, and it scares the hell out of me. I have no experience with it. We're just going to have to figure out what to do with it together."

"For someone who is scared, you sure sound like you know what you're talking about."

"I don't, trust me. I'm just good at talking. Especially to you. That day on the beach, that was the realest I have been with a person in at least ten years, and that includes interviews and debates and speeches. Conversations with Cyrus. It has always been easy with you, even when it was confusing me."

Before he could stop himself, and before she could stop him, he put his arms around her waist. Somehow, she knew that the best place for her arms were around his neck. They embraced. She smelled his soap again, turned her head to rest her cheek on his chest and savored the moment.

"Remember when I said I wasn't a sharer?" she said, while they stood there holding each other.

Fitz rested his chin on her head. "Yes."

"I had never shared as many details about mother as I did with you. Ever."

"I thought that might be the case."

"I guess what I'm saying is that you make sharing easier. And it's changed me. A lot of things have changed me, but you have been the biggest influence, only I'm just realizing that now."

"Because I give good hugs?"

"That's certainly helping."

They laughed and let go of each other. Olivia brushed the hair out of her eyes.

"I haven't been hugged a lot. I haven't allowed it." Olivia found herself sharing more.

"We can change that."

"Fitz. I'm terrified."

"Livi, we're in this together."

"So you're terrified?"

"I'm past terrified, but I had my light bulb moment months ago, so I'll give you a little time to catch up."

"You did?"

"Of course. Why do you think I started calling you? Why do you think I asked for Abby's help? Why do you think I was praying you would all agree to move up here?"

Olivia was perched on the arm of the chair.

"I'm willing to figure this out with you. You're allowed to be terrified. I don't know what I'm doing, either. I'm just happy to be doing it with you."

"What now?"

"Now? Now, we sit on my couch and review this report like we had planned. We have take-out Italian. And we go from there."

That's what they did. They sat very near each other, legs touching, shoulders touching, discussing what the report meant for Fitz's current legislative projects and what it might mean for a future presidential run. They each stole glances at each other, occasionally catching the other doing the same. After the food was gone and they had gone round and round the different issues presented in the report, Olivia found herself sitting cross legged, full from a night that of good food, good conversation and good company. She rested her head on the back of the couch and closed her eyes. What was next? Not knowing was so unlike her. She had learned in the past months that she didn't always know what was next, but she usually had an idea. An inkling.

Fitz, meanwhile, was struggling with the same questions. He had said they would go from here, and he meant it. This night had changed everything, and he didn't think that was an overstatement. Should he ask her out on a date? Should he kiss her? Should he sneak away and call Cyrus or Greg for some advice?

Olivia interrupted his thoughts. "What are you thinking?"

He turned to face her on the couch. He felt like he was having a now or never moment, not unlike Olivia's earlier in the evening.

"I'm thinking I said we should take it from here. But I'm not sure what that looks like."

"Neither am I."

They stared at each other. Olivia noticed the blue in his eyes more than she ever had before. He had a mole above his right eye that moved when he smiled. He moved closer to her on the couch and put his hand on her shoulder to turn her towards him. She obliged. Her blood pressure skyrocketed. It felt like there were fireworks going off inside of her head.

"I know what I want it to look like."

"And?"

"It looks a little like this," he said, placing the softest of kisses on her right cheek. She closed her eyes.

"And a little like this," and he kissed her left cheek.

"Somewhat like this," he said, placing his lips on her forehead. He stopped.

Olivia's brain was a molten river. She had no thought but please keep going. Because she no longer was in control, she said that aloud.

"Please keep going," she whispered.

He removed his mouth from her forehead and squared his face with hers. She was flawless, even after a day of work. Her skin was silky, make-up free. Her lips were round and inviting. Her eyes were still closed.

"Livi, open your eyes."

When she did, he saw that they were watery. No tears fell, but the sight made him pause.

"Too much? You said," Fitz began.

"I said, 'Please keep going.' I meant it. These almost tears are a combination of shock, fear and happiness. That's the only way I can think to explain it."

Fitz started to back away. Olivia could sense that he was thinking he needed to slow down, that he was pushing her too far, too fast. But he had given her three of the sweetest kisses any woman would ever receive, and the first three kisses of her life, and she wasn't going to let him get away without one more.

She put her hands on either side of his face to stop his backward movement. She lifted herself halfway into his lap and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Kiss me, or I'll kiss you first."

Their lips met, her arms were around his neck, his around her back. It started as a hard, intense kiss. Olivia stopped for a breath, and Fitz leaned in for more. She welcomed him by opening her mouth slightly and letting him explore, while she did the same. This was not the first time he had kissed a woman, she could tell. He bit her bottom lip, slowed down his kisses to imprint the moment in both of their minds, then sped up as the passion overcame him. Did he know she had never kissed a man this way before? Was it obvious?

When they stopped to come up for air, they sat with their foreheads touching, leaning into each other.

"I cannot believe," Fitz said, breathing heavily, "that you got me to kiss you by making it a competition."

"I didn't want the opportunity to pass us by. I haven't had many like it, and I wanted you to know it was okay."

"And it was? Okay, I mean."

"It was perfect."

She curled up in his arms. She isn't sure who fell asleep first. Sometime around midnight, they both awoke when the building's alarm was remotely initiated. Looking at each other, remembering where they were, they were again overcome with the desire to be kissing. This time, Olivia had the confidence to put her tongue in Fitz's mouth, to kiss his eyelids, his neck. When she got to his collarbone, she felt his breath hitch again She smiled into his neck.

"Are you smiling? You're happy you doing this to me?"

"I'm happy. Period. For me to say that out loud, having just had only the second real kiss of my life, yeah, I'm smiling."

"Livi, if you are telling me you have never kissed a man before," Fitz began.

"Or a woman."

Fitz laughed. "Or a woman, well, then what we have is even more special than I thought. Because those two kisses, they were the best of my life. You win."

Olivia giggled. She was happy to have been honest. She was happy he returned her honesty with his own. She was happy she knew how to kiss. And, for the first time, she was happy to be with someone, rather than being alone.

* * *

Author's note: This was the chapter I'd been waiting for. It's three chapters later than I originally planned, but I wanted the build between two people so new at this to feel authentic. I hope it was worth the wait.


	14. Chapter 14

Being with a senator comes with both perks and downsides. Compelling conversation? Perk. Opportunities for travel? Perk. Stolen moments in office hallways? Perk. That's where Olivia found herself in July, nearly two months after their first real, honest night together.

"You know," Fitz said, kissing her neck, "a day trip to Sacramento doesn't really count as a getaway. We didn't even stay the night." He continued nibbling at her neck, causing her to giggle uncontrollably in a way that only Fitz had ever witnessed.

She put her hands on his shoulders to break the spell. "Fitz, we're taking this slowly, remember? We work together. We have to tread lightly. The fact that I was even on that train with you," Olivia said.

"Was amazing," Fitz said, continuing to pepper her with kisses. She finally gave in and put her arms around his neck. He put his arms around her waist, lifting her off of the ground slightly. As he brought her down to the ground, she came down to Earth.

"It was fun, yes. But I'm not sure it's appropriate. I'm not sure either of us ready for anyone in the public to know about whatever this is. There's a lot of work to be done without unneeded distractions. Right now, for instance, the core is in a meeting. And I'm in the hallway being, I don't know, groped by my boss. It feels,"

"Wonderful. Exciting. Perfect. I'll settle for nice, even."

"It feels all of those things, but it also feels wrong. Not wrong fundamentally, because," Olivia said, kissing him sweetly on the cheek, "it is not wrong. But to be missing meetings, I don't know. It doesn't feel like me."

That got both of their attention. As much as she was enjoying beginning to date Fitz, and as many positive changes had come to her life in the last year, many due to him, it was still important to her that she stay true to herself. She was a hard worker. She wanted to change people, the country, the world, for the better. There were times when she was distracted by a message, or daydreaming uncharacteristically, or taking a train to Sacramento, when she found herself drifting away from that work.

"Livi, the work matters. I'm with you on that. I never want you to feel like you aren't here for the great work you're doing, and have done, and hopefully will do. But the dynamic has changed. We spend most evenings having dinner and watching the news. You're the last thing I think about before I fall asleep. When your name shows up on my phone or in my inbox, my heart starts beating a little faster. Standing here, not even touching you, just standing here with you has been the highlight of my day."

Olivia nodded in agreement. It was true. She felt the same. But she knew she had to do her best to keep herself grounded until she lost all control.

Cyrus, Abby and Harrison knew about the change in dynamic Fitz spoke of. Nobody was more surprised than Cyrus. He had known Fitz and Olivia separately, and though he loved them both dearly, he had never pictured them together. He was also so busy with work and his personal life that he had missed some of the small moments that others might have picked up on. Others like Abby, and by extension Harrison. Olivia assumed Greg and his wife knew, as well, because Greg and Fitz went way back. She wondered how Fitz had explained it, because even she had difficulty defining exactly what they were.

She knew there was nobody else, for either of them. She knew she wanted to be with Fitz whenever possible. Did that make him her boyfriend? She didn't know. And she wasn't sure how to broach the subject, or if it was even necessary.

There was a subject, though, she had finally talked about with Abby because she could feel in her gut that it was boiling to the surface. Intimacy, she and Fitz shared. She could feel it in every interaction. She trusted him. She liked the way his hands felt on the small of her back. She shared things with him she had never shared with anyone, never had even spoken the words aloud. Except for the one thing that was left, and that was that she had never had sex. With anyone. Ever.

Abby was surprisingly calm when presented with this information over late night tacos and sangria at Olivia's apartment.

"Okay, so that's a hurdle. Totally crossable though," she said.

"We're talking zero experience. I'm not underestimating or being modest."

"I know you. I know you're not. Look, you'll be mortified, but you have to tell him. It doesn't matter that you're inexperienced, but he needs to know. Before it goes further, he needs to know."

Olivia dipped her chip in the salsa they were sharing and thought for a moment before realizing that Abby was right. She told her as much.

"Look, Liv. You're the brains of this operation. That I can be right about something, or know more about something, even something as sundry as sex, I'll take it." They laughed and the subject was dropped, as Abby knew Olivia would need time to figure out her next move.

Olivia recalled that conversation as Fitz poured his heart out in the hallway of the corridor that was housed everyone on his staff. She decided she would tell him, and tell him soon. She made a pact with herself, and sealed it with a passionate kiss with Fitz before shooing him back to his office with the promise of meeting later for dinner.

The following week, Olivia received a message from Fitz as she walked to the train station.

**We met a year ago today. Something to think about. See you later?**  
**Fitz**

She looked at the mental calendar in her head and found he was right. Had she only been in California for a year? It seemed impossible that so much had happened to her in such a short period of time, when for so many years her life was in cruise control, the years merging together, all the same, with no surprises or adventure. Her growing relationship with Fitz had been both.

**Come over when you're done. I'll make dinner.**  
**Livi**

**You cook, too?**  
**Fitz**

**I'll order dinner. See you soon?**  
**Livi**

**Where are you?**  
**Fitz**

**Heading to train. Just tell me your ETA and I'll order something for us.**  
**Livi**

**Wait for me. I'm coming down now.**  
**Fitz**

She knew she couldn't stop him, so she walked back toward the office building. Within minutes, Fitz was exiting with Greg and Mellie, who had been in the office helping advice Fitz's managerial staff.

"Olivia, hello. Good to see you again," Mellie said, a genuine smile on her face.

"You as well, Ms. Marshall. How's Hannah?"

"She's wonderful, thank you. She got my brains but her dad's laid back nature. We did good," Mellie said, looking at Greg. "And please, call me Mellie."

Olivia smiled. She glanced at Fitz, who looked handsome in his Friday casual clothes and sunglasses. He smiled at her and the mole she had noticed during the night in his office peaked out above the top of his glasses.

"Well guys, have a great weekend. Greg, call me if you get a tee time. Mellie, thanks again for kicking ass and taking names," Fitz said.

"My pleasure, you know that." Hugs were exchanged, and the two couples went in separate directions to their vehicles. Fitz put his hand on Olivia's back, and before she could protest said,

"Mellie knows. She knew at the birthday dinner. No need to worry."

"I wasn't, okay, yes I was."

"I know. I know you, remember?" Fitz stopped and kissed her in the middle of the parking lot.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

"So here's a good story. A year ago today Tock and I met this girl, woman, who knew where he got his name and knew me better than anyone I've ever known."

"I like that you include Tock. Please continue."

"He liked you from the start, and so did I. That's my point. I'm glad you're in my life, Livi. That's all I wanted to say."

"I'm glad you're in mine. I'm so far from where I thought I'd be, and I'm glad."

They shared a passionate kiss. Olivia reached up and removed Fitz's sunglasses as they were restricting her access to his handsome face. Fitz deepened the kiss, leaning into Olivia, holding her face in his hands, probing the inside of her mouth. She couldn't stop herself from moaning softly, looking up at the setting sun as Fitz ravaged her neck. They stumbled backward and Olivia ended up on the trunk of his car, her legs wrapped around him, the two of them giggling like high-schoolers in the parking lot during a football game.

"Fitz," she breathed, as put his hands on her waist. "Fitz, this isn't the place."

He put his head on her shoulder, breathing heavily.

"You're right. There's just one more thing."

She tilted her head and smoothed his hair. Some of his curls had fallen over his forehead. He searched her eyes for fear, and finding none, said what he had been holding onto for months.

"I love you."


	15. Chapter 15

"I love you."

The words floated around Olivia's head, grazed her lips, touched her heart. She had been looking at Fitz, and he had been looking at her, but as she tried to steady herself she found herself looking at her hands on his shoulders. He was so strong, sturdy. Though he made her woozy in all the best ways, he could also steady her with a single look. With that in mind, she brought her eyes back to his.

"I'm sentimental today, what can I say? You don't have to say it back. Not yet. It's just been a great couple of months, and a great year of knowing you. You own my heart, and I need you to know that."

He kissed her on the check, and then stepped back and reached for her hand to help her off of the car. She didn't budge.

"Fitz, please don't misinterpret my silence. I'm thinking."

He laughed softly. "I would expect nothing different."

"I'm thinking that the only person, people, who have said that to me that I can remember are my mother and father. That was obviously not the kind of love we share. I'm thinking you make me incredibly happy, happier than I thought I would be, happier than I thought I deserved. I'm thinking I've known you for 365 days. It feels like longer, and yet there's still so much we have left to share with each other."

"You're right. Let's go get some dinner and watch a movie. Share some fries."

"Why are you rushing me?"

"I'm trying to convey that I'm not freaked out that you aren't ready to say it back. I know how you feel. You can say it when you're ready."

She slid off of the trunk and got into the passenger seat as he held the door for her. The drove in silence, except for making small talk about which restaurant they were in the mood for. When Fitz went into get the food, Olivia waited in the car. Her mind racing, she tried to sort through what she was feeling.

She was feeling loved. There was no doubt about it. She was feeling scared, that it had come to this, that despite what she had planned she was now in the passenger seat of the senator's car and contemplating being in love with him. That was her issue, she realized. What was it like to be in love? Was this what it felt like? Having never experienced it, she couldn't be sure. As far as she had come in pursuing things she was unsure of, including just being with Fitz at all, let alone possibly loving him, she felt the familiar feeling of paralysis, of wanting to be alone to sort through it all.

"Busy in there. Here's your milkshake," Fitz said, handing her the drink she had ordered.

"Fitz."

"Don't."

"Don't what? How do you even know what I'm going to say?"

"I knew if I left you alone you'd remember how comfortable it is to be by yourself with your thoughts. I am not leaving you alone tonight. We are having dinner. We are watching whatever is on HBO. I am not going let you shut me out. You can process this for as long as you need, but tonight, dammit, I am not leaving you."

"Fitz."

"I'm sorry for being upset. We should have gone through the drive-through."

"I love you."

Stunned silence filled the car. Fitz was still holding a bag of burgers and fries. He turned to her with his eyes open wide, full of both hope and uncertainty.

"What?"

"I love you."

"Livi, I didn't mean to pressure you, I was just venting, I'm nervous too. This is new for me. Let's just go have dinner and be us, okay?"

"So now I'm not allowed to say how I feel about you?"

"Of course you are. I just had a tantrum. I don't want that be why you said it."

"Now who's overthinking?" Olivia said, smiling. She took a sip of her milkshake, for courage.

Fitz stared at her. She was beautiful, her face lit by street lamp and the lighting inside the car.

"While you were inside, yes, I was wishing I could be alone. I was making an escape plan. And then you came out here, and you knew, and that's how I know. I love you. I wasn't sure I knew what it felt like, but you knowing what I was thinking, how I was feeling, and me being so glad that you did. I think that's it. I love you."

He threw the bag of food into the backseat, took her milkshake and put it in a cup holder, and cupped her face in his hands.

"Olivia Pope," he said, not even sure what to say next.

"Fitzgerald Thomas Grant," Olivia countered.

Their foreheads came together. A single tear fell from her eyes. He used his thumb to brush it away. He had a feeling of such joy and anticipation, he had never experienced it before. He didn't know what to say or do. He was happy.

"Fitz," Olivia said.

"Yeah?" he said, his throat dry.

"I'm hungry. Can we go home?"

"Let's go home."

He took a sip of his shake, shifted the car into reverse out of the parking spot, and then headed forward toward his house, forward toward much more than even he could imagine.

* * *

August was a whirlwind. There was a lot of work to be done, and a lot of "I love yous" to be said. Fitz and Olivia continued spending most evenings together, sometimes working, sometimes relaxing, sometimes with friends, sometimes alone. Though she had found the courage to tell Fitz how she felt, and to mean it, the fact remained that they had not spent an entire night together. Fitz hadn't pushed, and for that she was grateful. In her mind, the right time had not arisen. She knew that Abby was right, that it would be embarrassing and difficult to say, but even knowing that she still avoided it. That is not to say that she didn't think about it often. Daily. Nightly, as she left Fitz's home or he left hers. There had been an evening when they had found themselves laying facing each other on Fitz's outdoor couch in his backyard, next to the outdoor fireplace, with Tock at their feet.

"You know, you dad's house had a lot of fireplaces. I noticed them. I envied them. If it were possible, I would be jealous of myself right now," Olivia said.

Fitz laughed. "It's relaxing, watching the fire. Just like the ocean. Mesmerizing."

He kissed her then. "Just like you," and then put his arms around her, pulling her close.

Their legs were suddenly intertwined, and they were kissing in a way that felt different to Olivia. She heard a small sound come from deep in his throat as she ran her hands through his hair, hanging on while he kissed her neck. He moved one of his hands to her back pocket and rolled her on top of him, and she could feel his hardness immediately. She tried to be cool. She tried to be the new Olivia. She unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt and kissed his chest. She put a hand on his side, where he was ticklish. That caused him to flip them completely, so that he was on top her, holding himself above her, smiling, panting, wondering.

"Time to stop?" Fitz asked. He had never said this before, but he hadn't needed to. This was as close as they had come to the next step.

Olivia nodded. Fitz wasn't disappointed, but for a moment wished he hadn't. He dropped beside her and held her in his arms.

"Fitz, I have to tell you something."

"No you don't. Just lay with me."

She turned to face him. She knew this was the moment she had been waiting for. She heard Abby's voice, telling her to just bite the bullet and put it out there. Instead, she said,

"You're right," and rested her head on his arm. They fell asleep like that, and halfway through the night she kissed Fitz on the cheek, patted Tock on the stomach, and drove away disappointed in herself for letting the opportunity go by.

* * *

On the morning of August 29, 2005, Olivia's phone rang before dawn. It was Abby.

"Liv, the hurricane hit, and it's bad. Harrison and I need to get there immediately. Can you help? Or think of how we might do it?"

Hurricane Katrina had hit Florida a few days prior, but had strengthened and grown and everyone had been watching it closely. Harrison's mother and brother had evacuated safely, but he still felt compelled to head in their direction.

"Let me call Fitz," Olivia said. "Wait five minutes before making any plans."

She hung up and dialed Fitz's number.

"Livi, morning. It's early. What's up?"

"The hurricane hit New Orleans. Harrison wants to do something. Can you help us get there?"

"I'm on it. Might have to fly somewhere and then drive, but we'll figure it out. Call Harrison and Abby, I'll call Cyrus and Greg. Could you also call Eleanor and check on my dad? Make sure everyone there is set for a week or so? I need to call the office to see about getting us a plane."

The team mobilized. Olivia helped Eleanor by bringing over some prescriptions and leaving Fitz's second car in case they needed another vehicle. She packed a bag for a week and met everyone at the executive airport. Harrison was visibly worried, checking his phone and getting updates from his mother. Fitz and Cyrus were talking with Greg. Abby was on the phone with someone at the Project P office, letting them know they would be out of town indefinitely. She hugged Harrison, waved to Abby, then walked toward Fitz and the other two men. They seemed to be strategizing.

"Fitz, he's right. We have to tell them you're going. It is purely out of the desire to help and in support of a friend. But we have to tell them," Greg said.

"I'm not politicizing a natural disaster. I'm not. This is part of why I avoided a run altogether. I won't do it."

"Liv, can you please tell Fitz that he doesn't have to sell his soul? We're only asking for a press release."

She looked at the three men. Greg looked as if he agreed with Cyrus, though understood Fitz's perspective. Cyrus looked incredulous to even be having the conversation. Fitz looked defeated, but his eyes pleaded with Olivia to side with him.

"I think people will notice us. We're flying into where, Nashville? When the plane of a senator lands, today, people will notice. Let's use that element of surprise to our advantage. It will seem less political and more like what it is: concerned citizens who want to help. We will have a statement ready. But we won't release until we're noticed."

She got nods. Well, nods, plus an eyeroll from Cyrus.

"You're good, Pope. Let's do this. The pilot is here, and I just got the thumbs up." Cyrus waved to Harrison and Abby and the group of six boarded the private jet.

She sat next to Fitz. They were both quiet for most of the flight. The plan was to land, then take one vehicle as far into Louisiana as they could. Nobody was sure if that was possible, but they figured they would do what they could when they got there. The pilot was providing periodic weather updates that were increasingly worrisome for the people on the ground near the Gulf coast. The pilot was sure he could get them safely to Nashville, but there were growing concerns that they might be stranded there for a few days before they could safely check on Harrison's childhood home in the French Quarter. Greg had had a staffer make hotel reservations in Nashville just in case.

"Thank you for doing this," Olivia said quietly to Fitz.

He grabbed her hand and kissed it, then held it in his lap. "Of course."

"Where's Tock?"

"You love that dog," Fitz said.

"Yes, and I love you."

"He's staying with Mellie and Hannah. They have a nanny, so hopefully Tock won't give them too much trouble."

"Good. Look, about the statement," Olivia began.

"I heard you before. I get it. I can't just show up and say nothing. But I hate the idea of saying something. I don't know how I can phrase it without sounding like I'm lying or insincere."

"Look. Harrison has worked for you for a year. Though his family is safe, there are many who will not be as fortunate. When Harrison called you at dawn this morning and asked for your help, of course you did whatever you could. You realized that wanted to see it for yourself and help in any way you could. That's the truth."

"Harrison didn't call me, you did."

"The point is that it wasn't your idea. You don't want to take credit for it and make it seem like you were waiting for a disaster to increase your visibility amongst the American people. Southern Americans. I get that. So you're helping a friend, as you would expect many others are doing for their friends and loved ones in the area."

"Jesus, Livi. How do you just come up with this stuff?"

Olivia smiled. "It's what I do." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. They sat, her hand in his, quietly contemplating what they might find in the days ahead, for the remainder of the flight.

They landed in Nashville without incident, but reports made it clear they could not safely drive into the eye of the storm that day. It was still a very strong storm, still ravaging the Gulf coast, and it would put all of them in danger. They decided to rest and check the weather periodically overnight. They were walking out of the airport and toward a waiting car when a local reporter on the scene noticed Fitz and the rest of the group.

"Senator Grant. Audrey Hanson with KNAS. Was this a scheduled trip to Tennessee?"

"Hello there. No, unscheduled."

"What brings you here, sir?"

Fitz looked at Olivia, who gave him a nod.

"Well, like everyone else in the region, and the United States I'm sure, I'm really concerned about what is happening just south of us. One of my friends and colleagues, Harrison Wright, was born and raised in the French Quarter. He called me this morning and asked if I might be able to help him get closer to home. I could appreciate that his first instinct was to head into the storm, so I made some calls and here we are. Mr. Wright's mother and brother have safely evacuated, but surely there are people suffering right now as we speak. I wanted to be here for my friend, and to help him and others in any way I can. I imagine that's how everyone is feeling right now, like they want to help. So we're here, and we'll be here until it is safe for us to head south to lend a hand."

"Is this an official visit?"

"There's nothing official about it, Ms. Hanson. I had the resources to get my friend here, and I'll use them to help anyone who might benefit. The people of California surely understand why we, myself and my team, felt like we could take a few days to help those who need it."

"Thank you, Senator."

The reporter immediately began filing a story on Fitz's arrival in Nashville. He turned to look his five traveling companions. Cyrus was nodding, and texting. Greg was smiling and gave him a small, almost unnoticeable "OK" sign. Abby had a tear in her eye. Olivia was smiling, closed-mouth, and overcome with pride. Harrison stepped forward and shook Fitz's hand, and Fitz pulled him into a hug. This simple gesture, friend-to-friend, was running on the nightly news by the time they had checked into the hotel.

"I told you! This was just…this was just a moment. Now it looks like I'm hanging out with my one black friend for a photo opportunity." Fitz was yelling at Cyrus.

"Relax, Fitz. Read the caption. Nobody is reading it that way. You're too jaded by politics, by your upbringing, to realize that today was good. You are doing good, and you are being recognized for it. Enjoy it. Of course I'm happy that the reaction is positive, but this is you, Fitz. I've always just wanted America to see you, and here you are."

"He's right, Senator," Harrison spoke up. "I'm telling you, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You told the truth. You did good."

"Thanks, both of you, for the kind words. Meanwhile, people are standing on rooftops in New Orleans. It just doesn't feel right."

"Fitz," Olivia said quietly. "We're doing the best we can with what we have. We had to say something. The response is out of our hands."

"That's bullshit and you know it. You knew what the response would be when we discussed my statement."

"That is not true. Who knows how that reporter spins it. Am I glad she didn't turn you into an out of touch senator politicizing disaster? Of course. But we, all of us, we know who you are. That one local reporter in Nashville caught on, well, that's a small victory on a day otherwise filled with devastation. You need to stop beating yourself up for being a good guy."

Silence. Nobody had ever head Olivia and Fitz speak to each other this way. Fitz grabbed his coffee and his room key off of the table and walked out. Cyrus sighed heavily, announced he was going to call his boyfriend and try to rest, and did the same. They were in Harrison and Abby's room, but Olivia needed a moment to collect herself.

"Liv, he needed to hear it. You were the only one who could say it." Abby could tell Olivia was rattled.

She nodded, grabbed her purse, said goodnight, and walked into the hallway. She rounded the corner toward her room and found Fitz, sitting on the floor outside of the door.

"Hi," she said, sliding down next to him. She put her head on his shoulder.

"Livi?" Fitz said.

"Yes?"

"Can I stay with you tonight?"


	16. Chapter 16

Olivia kissed him immediately, while simultaneously digging through her gigantic purse for her room key.

"Of course you can stay," Olivia said between kisses. "I just have to find," and then she felt it between her fingers and lifted it out of her purse. "My key."

"I'm sorry I yelled, swore. I'm tired, and I'm feeling the way I felt when my dad first brought up a presidential run."

"Like it's partially out of your hands? Like you have trust other people to do what's right? Like you have to put yourself out there and hope people see the real you?"

"God, I love you," Fitz said, kissing her. He loved that she knew what he meant. That she wasn't upset that he had behaved like a child moments before. That she understood it came from a place deep inside filled with fear.

"I love you too. Let's go inside."

They walked into Olivia's hotel room and the first thing she noticed was that it only had a king size bed. Thankfully, for the moment, it also housed a couch, and so they took of their shoes and each took an end, with their knees touching in the middle. It was a serene moment. They were both thinking, though their minds were on different issues.

Fitz was thinking about what Olivia had said. That much of his future if he pursued being President was out of his hands. He would have to share himself with others in a way that was on a different scale than running for senator. A lot more media attention. Scrutiny. Propensity for spinning, for stretching the truth. Already today he had changed the story to suit him. How far would it go?

Olivia would have liked to have been thinking about "business" as they called it. But, because she was certain that today had gone perfectly from that perspective and that Fitz had only improved his reputation while staying true to who he was, her own words were echoing in her mind. Her lack of sexual experience was out of her hands. She had to trust Fitz to take care of her. She had to tell him this one final thing she had been withholding.

She sat up and moved to lay next to Fitz. She used his upper arm as a pillow, and he pulled her close. She wrapper her left arm and leg around him, and he sighed happily. She took a deep breath.

"Livi, you stopped breathing"

She hadn't noticed. She exhaled.

"Fitz. There's something I need to tell you."

"Nope. This is the perfect end to an emotional day. No sharing. Just sleeping, and kissing, and maybe showering."

She lifted herself up. She would not lose this moment of courage.

"This is important. I need to tell you, and I need you to respond however feels natural. Even if you think your response might hurt me in the moment. I'm already mortified, so don't make it worse by sugar-coating it."

This had his attention. She was now sitting on the edge of the couch, and he sat up and rested his chin on shoulder.

"Okay," he said quietly.

"You're my first relationship. I never let anyone in, you know that. You were my first kiss," Olivia began.

"That makes me happy," he said, turning to nibble on her ear.

"Me too, obviously, Stop, Fitz," she said, standing. "I can barely say this. I can't have you doing that while I try to spit this out."

He sat up, crossed one leg over his knee, and looked at her. "You have my full attention."

"Well now it's like I'm practicing a speech. God. Look, you have been my first everything. And you're everything to me. So I need to tell you that, in addition to not having kissed anyone before you, I also haven't slept with anyone."

Fitz stared.

"Ever. And I suppose I mean that in the literal sense, like I have not slept next to another person since I was twelve. But also in the sense that I think we both think about a lot, which is that I have never had sex with a man."

"Or a woman?"

"Correct. Jerk." She threw a pillow at him.

"Well, Livi. I'm sorry to have to tell you this," he said, standing and walking toward her. "But, I sort of guessed. I mean, I knew. You've made it pretty clear that you haven't had a lot of connections with people, and then you told me I was your first kiss. Unless you had some terrible past or a one night stand, which I highly doubted, I figured you didn't have a lot of experience. I am sad that you have not slept next to another person. I think you'll find it to be very comfortable, starting tonight. I am not sad that you haven't had sex, because we can work on that and have plenty of time to get you up to speed."

He bent down and kissed her softly on the cheek. "You don't need to be mortified. It only makes me like you more. You're the most authentic, true-to-yourself person I've ever met. To a fault, sometimes, but you're you. And I love you."

She threw her arms around him and hung on for dear life. She felt such a sense of relief. Of course he had known. But now, one final question remained.

"So that just leaves you," she said into his ear as she ran her hands through his hair.

"To show you how it's done?" He laughed.

"Are you able? I mean, have you done things you could show me?"

"If you're asking if I'm a virgin, the answer is no."

She sighed. Her hands stopped. She waited.

"I've slept with three women, only one was anything near serious, and by serious I mean I took her to law school prom and had a second date, and the other two were acquaintances I tried to force myself to like because my dad told me I needed a wife."

"God bless you, Tom."

"What? You think that was good advice?"

"Well, I need a teacher. I'm glad one of us can take the lead on this. And I'm glad it's you."

"And I'm glad it's you," Fitz said.

"Thank you for knowing. That made it easier," Olivia sighed.

"It sure was fun watching you squirm, though. Is that how you prepared for speeches, by pacing and throwing pillows?"

She kissed him instead of hitting him, and the kiss soon turned into more. She was sitting on the small desk in the hotel room with her legs wrapped around his waist. His hands were under her blouse, and he was finally feeling the softness of her skin against his hands. She put her hands in his back pockets and pulled him toward her. She was ravishing his neck, his color bone, his chin. She could feel he was turned on and she was, too. In her mind, she thought, Fitz, I need you to make the next move.

As if on cue, he lifted her off of the desk and carried her to the bed. He unbuttoned her shirt, leaving her bra and pants. He took off his shirt, and then laid on the bed facing her.

"We're not doing anything tonight but this," he said, running his fingers under her bra strap. "There's no need to rush."

"I don't know what 'this' is, but I like it," she responded, placing her hands on his back and running her nails down his spine. He shivered.

"Livi, I love you so much. Thank you for telling me. I'll take care of you, of us. I promise."

"I know," and she believed him.

Fitz spent time slowly removing her bra, revealing supple, natural, gorgeous breasts that he had envisioned so many times. He ticked her with his fingers, and even went as far as to suck tenderly on one of her nipples. She moved with him, accepting his touch, using her hands to explore. His chest muscles were tight, his stomach was rippled with muscles. She moved her hands to his hips which caused him to laugh and tickle her in return. They moved further onto the bed and kissed until they were breathless. Her lips were swollen, he stomach was in knots, she was blissfully happy. Fitz felt the same way. He could feel Olivia's heart now more than ever. Her body was warm against his, and they fell asleep holding each other. When Olivia awoke to the sound of his phone ringing early the next morning, she found that he was right. Sleeping next to another person, in a bed, was better than sleeping alone.

* * *

Author's note: This chapter is somewhat shorter than the others, and I had originally intended for it to extend into the week in New Orleans. But, I felt like I wanted to share this with you and move onto the other stuff in the upcoming chapters. For those of you who guessed that Fitz knew, and that he might be able to help Olivia through this, you were right! He's Fitz, of course he had been with a woman or two. :) Thanks for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

The ringing of Fitz's phone had signaled that the hurricane was still raging, and that New Orleans and the surrounding areas had suffered significant damage. Despite their best attentions, everyone agreed that it would be safer for them to stay put in Nashville rather than head into the storm. Further, evacuations were still underway, the storm was still moving and causing damage, and going south now was not a logical move.

Abby was in touch with the Red Cross as soon as she was able to find someone to answer a phone. She told them that she was in town with Senator Grant and that they would like to offer their assistance if it was needed.

Harrison had left to spend time with his mother, who was at friend's home in the Nasvhille area. She was still have difficulty processing what she was seeing on the news, which was that 85% of her home city was under water.

Cyrus and Greg remained quietly campaign-focused. Though Fitz knew phone calls were being made, comments were being requested, and more photo opportunities were being proposed, he pretended not to know. As soon as he had been briefed that they would be staying in Nashville for the day, he put his phone back on the night stand in Olivia's room and turned to her. She had put his t-shirt on in the middle of the night and removed her pants, and was now wearing only the shirt and, from what he could see, some silk underwear. Her eyes were closed, but she spoke first.

"What's the latest?" she asked.

"You're up? Sorry, I was trying to be quiet."

"I heard the phone, but I tried the ol' 'if I don't move, they won't know I'm here,' trick."

Fitz smiled and nuzzled closer to her. "Is it working?"

"I think it is," she said, wrapping her arms and legs around him.

She had gotten up and changed in the middle of the night, but in the darkness she hadn't noticed that he had removed his pants and was wearing only boxers. Much of their skin was in contact now, more than ever before, and at every point, Olivia's body burned.

"Senator, you aren't wearing pants," she said, smiling.

"Olivia, neither are you," he replied.

She reached her hand up his back and grabbed onto the curls closest to his neck. He leaned into her hand, and she suddenly began laughing hysterically.

"Livi, are you okay?"

She gathered herself. "I'm sorry. It's nerves, but it's also that the first time I ever pet Tock, he did the same thing. I put my hand on his head and," and she burst into laughter again.

Fitz laughed too. "So you're saying the line between myself and my dog is very thin?"

They giggled.

"I love you, Fitz."

He stopped laughing, brushed her bed-hair out of her face, and kissed her softly on the lips.

"I love you too."

"We should probably get up."

"We should," he said, kissing her cheek.

"People are mobilizing, we'll want to be ready for whatever is planned."

"Definitely," he said, kissing her neck, collarbone, chest.

She sighed, helpless to control her body's response to his touch.

"Fitz," she said, putting her arms around his neck, willing him to kiss her breasts.

Fitz's response wasn't a word, but a visceral sound from the back of his throat. The intensity of his touch increased, he was gripping her back as he explored her front. She held onto the top his hand, running her hands through is hair, kissing his temples, while moving her legs in between his. He scooted down and kissed the sensitive area under her breasts, her ribs, her stomach. She got the chills and yet was so warm with desire that she couldn't stop herself from pulling his head back to hers, kissing him deeply, rolling him onto his back and straddling him. They were both breathing heavily. She shook out he hair, the ran her hand down his cheek, his chest, to the place where her leg was on his stomach.

"Teach me," she said.

He leaned up and pulled her toward him, so she was laying flat on top of him. He slowly put her back on her side, kissing her the entire time. He stopped for a moment and looked at her thoughtfully while catching his breath.

"Just say the word if it's too much. I love you."

"I love you too."

Keeping one hand near her face, he trailed the other over her breasts, around her hips, and to her thigh. Olivia felt her vision go blurry and was having troubling concentrating. She hoped she wasn't supposed to be taking mental notes because she was too caught up in the moment to process anything but how she felt, which was as if she were on fire.

Fitz used his fingers to touch her near and around her heat. Instinctively, she swayed toward him and yearned for more. When he slid a finger inside of her, she gasped. It was so unfamiliar and yet it felt natural somehow. He barely entered her, just teased her, moving his finger around, using is thumb to create pressure. He could feel her body constricting with his every touch. So could she.

"Okay?" he whispered.

She could not form words. She nodded, and kissed him.

With that he removed his and softly rolled her onto her back. He tried to look into her eyes, but they were closed and she had a look of bliss on her face. He could stop now, he knew, but he didn't want to. He wanted to make Olivia, his Livi, feel the way she deserved to feel. Treasured. Taken care of. Loved.

He made his way under the sheet that was covering them and found the spot between her legs. He slowly helped her bend her knees, and then, just for a moment, allowed himself to relish the moment. He was in bed with the first woman he had ever loved. Allowed himself to love. He smiled to himself as he glanced again at Olivia's face, before he set about pleasuring her with his tongue and his fingers. He took is time, exploring her body inside and out. With every second that passed, Olivia moved more and more rhythmically with the motion of his tongue and fingers. She tasted sweet, and Fitz was almost as aroused as she was just from watching her respond to the sensations she was feeling for the first time in her life.

Olivia felt like she was being pulled in a barrel up through a waterfall. The waves of sensation pounded against her head, her chest, he stomach, her thighs. She didn't even notice she had begun to move with Fitz. The feeling at the end was like she had come out on the top of the waterfall, as her body shuddered and years of not knowing or caring what this felt like were washed away. She thinks she yelled Fitz's name. When she finally opened her eyes, his head was back on the pillow and he was watching her.

She blushed.

"You're blushing," he said.

"Very astute. I am not in control of myself at the moment, in case you missed that."

"Oh I didn't miss it, trust me. I had my eyes open the entire time. Unlike you," he teased.

She wanted to hit him for the tease, but she was still semi-dazed. She scooted closer to him.

"I couldn't have imagined," she began, "what I was missing. Even if I had tried."

"I know. And guess what, my sweet baby? There's still so much more to do." He tucked her hair, now damp with sweat, behind her ear.

"That is simultaneously exciting and terrifying."

"I feel the same."

She looked up at him. He meant it.

"Thank you," was all she could think of to say.

"You're welcome. I hate to say this, but you were right thirty minutes ago when you said we should get ready for the day."

"But, what about, don't I need to, I don't know, help you? Do something for you?"

Fitz laughed. "You're incredibly thoughtful, but that little outing should be enough for me. For today, at least."

They shared one final kiss. Olivia somewhat shyly got out of bed and put on his t-shirt. She turned.

"You're in my room. Your suitcase is not."

"I know. I thought of that. I'll just sneak down the hall to my room. But I should probably take that shirt."

She pouted. "Fine."

Slowly, she removed his t-shirt, revealing her naked body underneath. The way she looked at him as she did, the way she tossed the shirt to him and slowly bent over to grab her blouse while never removing her gaze from his, proved to both of them that she was starting to embrace her sexual side, subconsciously or otherwise.

Three days later, the team was still in Tennessee, working at a local branch of the Red Cross to facilitate the transfer of supplies and personnel to the regions most affected by the hurricane. The news was bad. People were still inside the stadium, waiting to be taken to dryer land. Many cities and towns along the coast had been completely destroyed. Harrison and Abby, using some of Fitz's connections, had realized that his childhood home had been lost in the surge. It still wasn't permissible for any civilians to travel into the region, and Fitz refused to go alone or with an aide, fearing it would be too obvious an abuse of his little power as a senator to get in the way of rescue and cleanup efforts. Still, interview requests came to Greg daily, asking for Fitz to comment on the efforts he was witnessing, his thoughts about the government's initial response and what his experience had been.

Over lunch in downtown Nashville, as rain poured and the group rested their tired bodies, Fitz and Cyrus continued their back-and-forth.

"Cy. Please. What does Brian Williams need from me? A sound bite. I can't tell him anything he doesn't know."

"Look Fitz. You hired me, whether out of your own free will or because you felt compelled to do so by your father, you hired me to try and raise your profile and test the waters for a presidential run. I'm doing my job. I'm asking you to do yours."

"I appreciate it, Cy, I do. If someone can tell me what he wants to know, and how I can get out of this without sounding insensitive, I'm all ears."

Fitz looked around the table. Abby was on her Blackberry, but mumbled something under her breath.

Olivia heard her. "Abby, say that louder."

Abby looked up. "I said, 'You're either in this, or you're not.'"

"And what if I'm not?" Fitz said.

"Then I should probably start looking for alternative employment. I'd rather not, but if this train is leaving the station, I don't want to be left standing on the platform while you all go back to what you were doing before. I don't have that luxury."

"Neither do I," Olivia said quietly.

Fitz sighed. He knew they were right. He just hadn't been expecting these conversations so soon, two years before primary season, three years before an election.

"I'm in this."

"Please, let Greg or myself call NBC. I'll approve the questions. We can do it from wherever you're comfortable. One segment. That's it."

Fitz's eyes were trained on Olivia. She didn't nod, she showed no emotion. She was letting him make this decision for himself. He thought about their morning, the shower they had shared, the secureness he felt with her near him. Why wasn't she nodding, or shaking her head? Did she not care? Did it not matter to her what he decided?

Fitz's brain felt like it might explode. "Excuse me. I'll be back in a few minutes."

As he exited the restaurant, Olivia watched through the window as he stood and stared at the sky, letting the rain fall on his face. She had sat motionless, trying to allow him space to make this decision for himself. She felt so close to him, but she also felt like it was important for him to stay true to himself without her opinion getting in the way.

"Liv, you should go after him," Cyrus said.

"I don't know. I think he needs space to sort this out."

"I think he needs you," Abby said, going back to her Blackberry.

Olivia found him around the corner under the awning of a used bookstore.

"Hi," she said, walking up, hugging herself.

"Hi," he said. He did not make a move to hug her.

"I think this is up to you. I think you should do what you think is right."

"Do you, really? Because you've always had an opinion before. And now suddenly you're mute!" His voice level raised, and he immediately regretted it.

Luckily, Olivia had a thick skin. "Look, Fitz. I love you. I believe in you. You know that, right?"

He responded with the smallest of nods.

"I cannot make this decision for you. If you want my opinion, I'll give it. I was simply trying to stand back, let you do this alone, let you try and feel your way to the what you felt was the right move…"

"I don't want to do this alone! I want to do it with you by my side! If you don't know that already…"

"I do know it, I do," she said, moving closer and no longer allowing the space between them to make it easier for him to avoid eye contact, avoid her touch.

"Then why did you say nothing? I value your thoughts the most."

"Fitz, I know. I was just, you know, the space thing. I wanted you to feel like you could get there without me. You've gotten this far."

"I got this far with Greg and a few people I trusted. And guess what? It was lonely, but it was fine. Now I have you, and despite how desperate this may sound, I need you. That you still feel like I need space, it makes me feel like we haven't made as much progress as I thought."

"You don't mean that. You're upset, I understand. I'm sorry I misread the situation. But you have to know I'm with you. I love you, Fitz. Like crazy. Like I cannot control it, don't know what to do with, never want it to stop. I was just trying to find a balance between those feelings, and our work. I'm sorry if it came out the wrong way. But I won't stand here and have you tell me that this week, this month, this year, has less meaning because one time I left you out there to make a decision on your own. I won't do it. That's not who I am."

"And I'm not someone who does things halfway. So you're either the person I trust the most, or you aren't."

"What happened to separating work from our personal life? To taking time to figure this out? This should just be a simple conversation about work. You're making it much bigger. I said I was sorry. What else can I do when you're being unreasonable?"

The rain poured. Her back was getting wet. They stared at each other.

"Maybe I just need to be unreasonable alone for a while. I'm going inside this bookstore. I'll meet you at the hotel."

"Fitz, don't do this. Just like that night in your car, I won't let you do this."

"I'll see you in a little while, okay?"

With that, he turned and walked into the store. She could either stand under the awning and wait for the storm to pass, attempt to find a cab, or make her way to the hotel. She wasn't sure how long this storm would last. She glanced inside the store, hoping to catch a glimpse of Fitz over one of the shelves. She didn't see him. She stepped out into the rain and walked slowly toward the hotel, alone.


	18. Chapter 18

Olivia was soaked when she returned to her hotel room. She showered and put on her pajama pants and a t-shirt. She longed for a fireplace to help bring her body temperature back to normal. Despite it being late August, she still felt cold.

She replayed the argument with Fitz. He had seemed so fragile. He was upset with her for not voicing her opinion, and she understood that. But to make the leap to her not being with him, not being there for him, she found that to be out of line. She regretted using the word unreasonable, but as she thought about it, she couldn't think of another way to say it.

Ninety minutes later, her Blackberry lit up.

**Just got back to my room. Will you come over?**  
**Fitz**

**Sure.**  
**Olivia**

She didn't change into something nicer, as she usually would. She was still cold, in fact, so threw on an oversized white sweater, turned off the lights in her room, and made her way to Fitz's door. She knocked lightly, heard him tell her to come in, and noticed he had left the security latch in between the door and the wall so she could let herself in.

He was sitting on the couch , which was not unusual. What was odd was that instead of light from the windows or the lamps, the only thing lighting the room were candles. Dozens of candles. Olivia secured the door and joined him on the couch.

"It's beautiful in here. Serene. Let's pitch an all-candlelight energy plan," Olivia said.

Fitz smiled and turned to face her on the couch.

"Livi, I'm sorry. I was out of line before."

"It's okay. I'm sorry you felt like I wasn't," she began.

"Don't apologize. You were right. I was taking it too far. As I walked aimlessly around that bookstore, seeing item after item I wanted to discuss with you, I realized I had overreacted about your non-comment at lunch. You know why?"

Olivia didn't want to wager a guess. She wanted him to explain it.

"You think you're the only inexperienced one here? We're on a level playing field. I love you so much that I can't separate what we do at work and what we do here." He motioned around the room. "I need to get better at that. But I also need you know that I am always, always, always going to want your input. It matters more to me than I think I can express. You seem afraid, like I might lose myself if I rely on you too much. I disagree. I think I'm my best self with you by my side. That's what I tried and failed to explain earlier."

"You just did a pretty good job," she said, putting herself into his lap and holding him as tightly as she could.

"Do you want to have dinner and watch a movie? Like we were back in San Francisco?"

"I do," she said.

"There's a but."

"But I think you need to decide about the NBC interview. Either get Cyrus and Greg off of your back, or do it."

Fitz sighed. "Welcome back, Ms. Pope."

"I love you."

"I know. I'm going to do it."

She sat up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Can I tell Cyrus I'll do it tomorrow?"

"You can tell him whatever you want." She kissed him.

They spent the rest of the evening watching movies and eating room service. After putting each other through the ringer, they had come out on the other side.

Fitz was scheduled to tape the interview with Brian Williams at noon, central time the following day. He decided to sit with the director of the Nashville branch of the Red Cross and include her in the conversation. He had spoken at length with his team, and was prepared to share what he had witnessed and what he hoped might happen in the future to help in recovery and rebuilding efforts.

Though nobody said it aloud, this felt like a moment similar to one they had all experienced a year earlier. Fitz had an opportunity to speak to a national audience from his heart, just as he had done at the convention. Cyrus paced. Greg was texting Mellie. Abby, Harrison and Olivia stood just off camera.

"He'll nail this," Harrison said. "He's got this."

"He just can't freak out," Abby said.

"Abby! He doesn't freak out," Olivia said.

"A little biased Liv? He threw a tantrum at lunch yesterday. Look, I love the guy, not the way you love the guy, but I love him. I respect him. He just needs to be that guy today."

Olivia looked at Fitz as the camera operator set up the lighting. Fitz turned and smiled. She mouthed, "I love you," and he nodded.

"He'll be fine," Olivia said with confidence.

And fine he was. Fitz appeared smart, sensitive and compassionate. He expressed concern about what was happening in Gulf coast states and explained the mobilization of help he had witnessed. He reported that his initial reason for the trip, Harrison's home, had been destroyed, but that hope had not been lost. He expressed his gratitude for the Red Cross, who had allowed him to help and welcomed his input. He explained that the ability to come together in a time of crisis reminded him of why he was so proud to live in the United States. He asked the Red Cross director to share the current status of her efforts, rather than speaking for her. And wished the best for those still suffering, and sent thoughts and prayers to all affected.

He was perfect.

Two months later, things in New Orleans and the surrounding areas were not perfect. The ground response, the lack of resources, the failure of systems designed to protect people, all of these issues were being debated as people attempted to get back to their lives. The interview with Fitz was often referred to in the media as an example of hospitality, helpfulness and understanding of a situation when it seemed as if others were struggling with those concepts.

In Washington, where Fitz was now performing his duties as a senator, he was lauded for his genuine desire to help. In California, people were touting his willingness to do whatever it took for any citizen, not just those in the state he was serving. People were proud of him, including his father, who had been lucid for weeks and even making visits to headquarters.

During the last week of October, Tom sat in Olivia's office with Fitz on speakerphone. They discussed the news of the day, Fitz asked for an update on Tock, who he had left with his father for the six weeks he had planned to be gone. Olivia smiled. She was grateful to hear this conversation between father and son. She had missed so many with her parents. It was lovely to hear the man she loved have an ordinary conversation with his dad.

Near the end of the call, Tom asked about Fitz's return date, which was scheduled to be in two weeks for the Thanksgiving holiday.

"Well, dad. Livi, you might want to tune in if you haven't already. I won't be coming back to California like I planned."

"What? It's Thanksgiving. We've got dinner planned, we miss you! Fitz, what is going on?" Tom asked.

"You need to talk to Cyrus," Fitz said. "That's all I'll say."

Without a word, Tom hit end on the phone. Olivia laughed, but appreciated his spirit. They both got up and made the walk to Cyrus' office.

"Cyrus, what's this about my boy not coming back to California?"

"Right, that."

Olivia and Tom waited. Cyrus looked, for the first time that Olivia had ever witnessed, sheepish.

"What is it, Cyrus?" Olivia asked.

"Well, as you probably heard, Connecticut has recently passed legislation allowing couples such as the one I am a part of get married. Or united. Whatever. So, we're doing it. James and I, we're becoming civilized. We're getting married."

Olivia's eyes widened. Tom was shocked into silence.

"Cyrus, oh my god. This is fantastic. I am thrilled for you!" She crossed the room to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Congratulations."

"Cy, well, I don't know. I knew you had a boyfriend, I tried to forget it. But I love you like my own son. And I'd like to offer my congratulations, if you'll accept it."

"Jesus, old man. Get over here. I won't bite."

Tom walked over and shook Cyrus' hand. He had never understood his homosexuality, but had never shunned him for it. Olivia was touch by the moment. Cyrus pulled Tom into a hug.

"I'm so glad you'll be there. We won't make you wear a dress."

The group laughed, Olivia called for champagne, and for Abby and Harrison, and a toast was made.

Later, Olivia called Fitz.

"Hi. I miss you. Come see me." He began every conversation this way.

"I guess I'm coming, but you knew that already," she said.

"It was Cy's news to tell. So that just leaves one question."

"Yes?"

"Will you be my date to joyful nuptials of Cyrus and James?"

Olivia paused. There was more to this question than just being accompanying Fitz to a wedding. People would be reporting on it. There would be photographs. It would be official.

"Livi?"

"I'm here."

"Just say 'Yes.' It's about time we got dressed up and had a proper evening out. It's a wedding, you'll look pretty in the photographs, and we'll deal with whatever happens next."

"Pretty? I'll be stunning."

"That's what I meant. So that's a yes?"

"Yes."

Fitz whooped and immediately started talking about when she should come east, where they should stay, what they should do. She was thrilled, on the one hand, to be at this place with him. On the other hand, she was nervous. She hadn't been east since her move. She hadn't ever been spotted with Fitz in anything other than a business capacity. This would change things. She just hoped it would change things for the better, and realized she had no choice but to start hunting for the perfect dress.

* * *

Author's note: Next up, the wedding. :) It's sure to be a big night for many of our main characters.


	19. Chapter 19

A small group gathered for dinner on the Sunday evening before the ceremony, which would take place at Hartford City Hall the following day. They were in the back of a quaint Asian fusion restaurant, the type of place that had become all the rage over the past couple of years. The guests included Olivia, Fitz, Abby, Harrison, Greg, Mellie, Hannah, James and his mother, Tom, Eleanor, and three former colleagues of Cyrus' from Princeton. It was a lovely meal of sushi and saki passed family style. As Olivia glanced around, she felt like it was a family. She was overcome, and so she tapped her spoon on her water glass to acquire the attention of the group. James and Cyrus took the opportunity to kiss. Everyone laughed.

"It's tradition!" Cyrus said happily.

Olivia stood. "I know there will be a couple of speeches tomorrow, but I hope it's okay that I share my wishes for the happy couple tonight."

"By all means, Liv." Cyrus winked.

"Well, Cyrus, I'm not sure you know this, but you were the first person I might have called a friend. I will always remember our first meeting in your office when I was 18 and trying to check another item off of my list. I envied your manner of speaking, your intelligence, but most of all, your passion. And it is that same passion that brings us to this table tonight. This mix of people, I'll be honest, in a million years I could never have pictured myself here. Cyrus," Olivia said, turning to face him, "I feel honored to bear witness to your passion at work, but I am thrilled beyond words to be here to witness this union." She raised her glass. "To Cyrus and James, may you live happily together, end your nightly debates with hugs, spreading your passion for progress and honesty to the world, united as one. Cheers."

Everyone touched glasses, Cyrus and James stood to hug Olivia, and she sat down in her chair. She had selected fitted black slacks and an oversize white sweater that shimmered in the candlelight and dropped over one of her shoulders. Fitz kissed her bare shoulder as she took her seat.

"Good speech, Livy," he whispered.

"Thank you," she said, turning to kiss him lightly on the lips.

Tom was the last speech of the night. Fitz was scheduled to give a toast at the meal and celebration that would follow the ceremony. Tom stayed seated as he began speaking.

"I've known Cyrus for years. We were much, much younger when we first met, but I saw in him then qualities that are rare by themselves, even rarer to see in one human. Smart as a whip, persuasive, ruthless, and a great defender of democracy."

"Wow, Tom, this is touching," Cyrus said jokingly.

"Let me finish. In addition to those qualities, I saw a genuine desire to help others. A willingness to fight for anyone and anything he believed in. He's a rare breed, and he is the only person I would have trusted to take care of my only son when I no longer could." Tom's eyes filled with tears. Olivia put her hand on Fitz's knee, and he took it in his own and squeezed.

"You know sentimentalism is not my strength. But Cyrus, you're a good man. One of the best. You were the only person who could do for Fitz what I couldn't, which was convince him that he's in the same category. On this, the night before you officially become partners with James, who by the way, is in a class of his own if he's able to put up with you, I want to say thank you. Thank you for your hard work. Thank you for leading the way. Thank you for taking us all to new heights. I will be forever grateful to have been here for this and to have known you. Here here." He lifted his glass. Everyone at the table wiped their eyes. Fitz stood up and hugged his father tightly before returning to his chair. It was Olivia's turn to be there for him.

"I love you, Fitzgerald Thomas Grant."

"Interesting use of the full name."

"After that toast, I think you should feel very proud to be named after your father. He loves you very much."

"I know," Fitz said looking down. "That felt like a goodbye." He turned to her, wondering if she had heard it too.

"It did, but he's here, we're here, this a great occasion, let's enjoy it. All of us."

He put his forehead on hers.

"We're sharing a hotel room."

"We are."

"I'm glad."

"As am I."

"Olivia, Fitz, snap out of it. I love you both, but please. A man just wants to eat his cheesecake, alright?" Tom said from the other end of the table.

Everyone laughed. Fitz gave her a quick peck on the cheek and resumed his conversation with Harrison who was sitting on his left.

Olivia finished speaking with a former professor, then managed to sneak some time with Eleanor. She knew having good anecdotes for Fitz later, if he started worrying about his dad, would be helpful. The plan was to meet outside of city hall the following day for a few pictures. Fitz, Tom and James' mother would be the witnesses to the actual ceremony, and then a celebration would follow at a nearby country club.

"Liv, you having any second thoughts about your dress?" Abby asked. They had gone shopping together.

"Of course. But by the time I step foot outdoors tomorrow, I'll be ready."

"That's my girl," Abby said laughing. "Own it." She snapped jokingly.

Olivia had been appreciative of Abby's help at the department store. Olivia knew she wanted something beautiful. Abby had convinced her to be somewhat daring, as well.

An hour later, Fitz and Olivia were changing into their comfortable clothes in their hotel room. This was their second night together, and already this felt like routine. A good routine. She smiled to herself, as she couldn't have predicted herself having a nightly routine she shared with anyone, and here she was, changing into white silk pants and a lightweight grey t-shirt, washing her face, brushing her teeth, all next to Fitz as if it were normal. And then it hit her: this was her new normal.

"Are you hungry? I should have eaten more cheesecake," Fitz said, settling on the couch.

"I could eat. But not too much Need my dress to zip."

Fitz laughed. "Is it that tight?"

"Not tight, exactly. It just needs to be where it needs to be."

"How about a preview?" he asked, with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Absolutely not! All will be revealed tomorrow."

"Fine. Come sit with me, LIvi."

They held each other the couch, talked about Cyrus, about Fitz's dad, about the statement Fitz had prepared to release tomorrow. Same-sex marriage wasn't a particularly hot topic around the country, but it had been Fitz's idea to wish Cyrus well in the public forum to hopefully begin discussions about equal rights.

"Have you been to many weddings?" Fitz asked.

"This is my first."

"Wow. And it's going to be a doozy. I've been to a lot of them, but I'm expecting this to be the best ever. For a lot of reasons."

He lifted her face toward his and kissed her tenderly.

"Livi," he began.

"Take me to bed."

"Excuse me?" he said, laughing.

"You heard me. Don't make me repeat myself or I'll go ask for a separate room."

He scooped her up and carried her to the bed at the other end of their suite. Before he set her down, he touched the pillows.

"Perhaps not up to Olivia Pope standards," he said, nuzzling her ear, "but then again, we probably won't be needing them."

She giggled, and with that, they were on the bed, wrapped in each other, kissing and exploring as they had learned to do over the previous few months. As on other occasions, Fitz removed Olivia's shirt. As on other occasions, she removed his pajama pants. When they got to the place where things had always slowed down, the place where they were both in their underwear or even naked, Fitz paused.

"We do not have to do this. I want to. I want you. But we do not have to. Just being in the same room with you, for a night, is enough. If you want to stop, you just have to say so."

She treasured him so much. She was confident, and she felt with every fiber of her being that there wasn't another person on the planet who could have begun helping her turn into her best self. He cherished her, he protected her, he strengthened her, he turned her on. She was in love with an incredible man, and he was almost naked in front of her, and her instincts kicked it.

Without a word, she began removing her underwear. Fitz just watched. She made quick work of her bra, a beautiful black and white lace bra she had recently purchased, fancier than any she had owned before but exactly her style. She was now completely naked, and the only item of clothing that remained were his boxers. She ran her hand around the waistband, feeling the warm, soft, scarcely touched skin there. She could feel that he was ready. She had put her hand on him only a precious few times before, but tonight, she felt a courage that only Fitz could bring out in her. She slowly stroked him underneath his boxers, causing him to sigh heavily and begin gnawing on her neck.

"Fitz, if I have a hickey," she said.

"You won't. I just, can't," he began.

He must have been trying to say that he was overcome, because the next thing she knew she was on her back. He was removing his boxers. He brought his body down over hers and kissed her, hard, on the lips. She put her hands on his behind and dug her nails in, causing another moan he could not control. He put his fingers inside of her in the way he had found she liked best, and she pushed her hips toward him in a way she had found made it feel even better than she could have expected. There was a pause. He was holding himself up, and he said, in the sweetest voice and in a way only Fitz could,

"Olivia, I want to make you happy for the rest of my life."

She could have cried. She might have cried if this were months ago, but it was now, and it was Fitz, and she was ready.

"You're the only person who could."

And with that, he produced a condom from somewhere as men tend to do, and he was pushing himself inside of her. Slowly, so slowly. She felt the mixture of pleasure and pain she had read about in novels, but when she looked into Fitz's eyes as he watched her carefully, the pleasure increased and the pain subsided. She wrapped her arms around his back and began moving with him. He kissed her ear, her cheek, her neck, whispering her name, telling her he loved her. He started moving faster, and their breathing became more rapid, and though she was not the most physically comfortable she had ever been, she felt safe in Fitz's care. It felt amazingly warm to have him fill her, and she began to feel the same sensations she felt when he brought her over the edge with his fingers or his mouth. Without warning, he suddenly felt massive inside of her, and he cried out and shuddered as he finished, coming to a stop still inside of her, his head on her breast. She scratched his back. He wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Was that okay?" Olivia asked.

"Better than okay," Fitz said. "Are you okay?"

"I think so. Yes. You had me ready, readier than I realized."

"If this whole Project P thing doesn't work out, maybe I'll be a teacher."

"You'd be a great teacher."

He slowly pulled out of her, and went to the bathroom to retrieve tissue to help clean them up. He was so tender, so loving, and somewhat quiet.

"Fitz, what are you thinking?"

"This was special."

She laughed. "Yes. I'm devirginized. We are now free to do that on a regular basis, I hope."

"I'm serious, Livi."

"I know. You're right. It was special. Thanks to you."

"I want to do that with you forever. I want do everything with you, forever."

"I love you, too," Olivia said.

"You aren't hearing me," Fitz said.

"I absolutely am," Olivia countered, as they both got under the covers and faced each other.

"So what do you think I'm trying to say?"

"Fitz, everything I do, in some shape or form, is because of you. At work, it's obvious. I do things because I think they'll benefit you. In life, it's the same. I wait for you. I watch for you. I breathe easier when you're around, I'm sadder when you aren't. I don't want to be alone anymore. I want to be with you."

Fitz was stunned. That had been the speech had had been prepared to give.

"I nailed it, I assume," Olivia said, smiling, her eyes glowing with love and admiration for Fitz.

"I love you more than anything. I miss you all of the time when we're apart. I want to share my life with you, all of it, even brushing our teeth and seeing your hair in the sink."

"Mr. Romantic," she said, pinching his side.

"I'm serious. Tomorrow, when someone takes our photo, and they ask me who you are, I'm going to say you are my partner. I won't say girlfriend. That trivializes what you mean to me. I won't say friend or co-worker, because that would be a lie. You are my partner."

She felt the nausea, the dizziness, the love.

"And someday, I hope you'll be my wife."

Alarm bells. Explosions. All of it was there, because Olivia was still the same parentless child who had lived alone for so many years. She was still unsure of the future, despite knowing that Fitz needed to be in it. She was still only comfortable with her small circle of friends. And yet, as she looked at Fitz and saw the sincerity and hopefulness in her eyes, she couldn't help but nod. She didn't say yes, that seemed too cheesy. She just looked him in the eyes, tried to convey her emotions as best should could, and nodded.

With that, he kissed her, and the education of Olivia Pope continued throughout the evening. When they were finally too exhausted to continue, Fitz curled his body around hers and they fell asleep to the sound of ocean waves coming from his sound machine. Olivia's final thoughts before drifting to sleep were not about what just occurred, or what might happen tomorrow. They were of her mother, of the light she had emanated until the day she died, and how she hoped that somewhere she could see that Olivia had finally found the light she had been searching for, the light she thought had been permanently extinguished.

* * *

Author's note: As has happened many times, events I think will only need one chapter end up needing more. I hope you all enjoyed this. The final sentence of this chapter might be my favorite of the entire story thus far. The next chapter will be the wedding celebration of Cyrus and James (and maybe more), I promise.


	20. Chapter 20

Olivia's dress was green.

She was generally drawn toward black and white, classics. But one of the movies she and Fitz had watched one evening was Sabrina, the new version, despite protests from Fitz that it didn't hold a candle to Humphrey Bogart. Since seeing that movie, and seeing Julie Ormond make her entrance to a party in a beautiful green gown, Olivia had had green on her mind.

It turns out there aren't a lot of green dresses that don't resemble mermaids, but as Abby flipped through a rack at their last store before hope might have been lost, she put her hands on a dress that was a rich emerald green color. She had motioned Olivia over, and when Olivia had taken it off of the rack, she knew.

It was made of a silk the color of the ocean just as the sun is setting. The thin straps were made of crystals, and then went up over her shoulders from the sweetheart neckline and down her back to where the just sat just above her hips. The dress was backless. When she had told Fitz that the dress needed to be where it needed to be, that was why. Olivia had had the dress altered to hug her just the right way. She had small diamond stud earrings that had belonged to her mother, as she did not need a lot of accessories due to the beaded straps and the backless statement. Abby had loaned her a black satin purse and she was wearing simple black pumps.

As she and Fitz were getting ready in the same room, she had done her hair and makeup while she showered and shaved. Her hair was straight. He makeup was natural. When Fitz stepped out of the bathroom, he smiled.

"You're ready to go, I see."

"I'm wearing a robe."

"And as beautiful as ever."

"Stop it. Are you finally done in the bathroom? I'm glad I'm learning this about you now. We'll need multiple bathrooms." That she was referring to them living under the same roof was not lost on either of them.

"I think the White House has plenty."

Olivia was halfway into the bathroom and stopped in her tracks. She turned to look at him.

"Did you just make a reference to living in the White House?"

"With you. Yes."

"Wow," she said, walking toward him. "You've come a long way since I first met you." She wrapped her arms around him, smelling the aftershave and kissing him on his smooth cheek.

"As have you. You didn't run out the door at the mention of living with me."

"Oh in my head, the old me is panic-stricken. I'm focusing on the biggest takeaway, which is that you can see yourself there."

"With you. I can."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," she said, feeling flirty.

"You're always telling me not to sell myself short," Fitz said.

"Oh, you can be President."

"You think?" he asked, kissing her shoulder as he pushed the robe off of her shoulder.

"I do," she said.

"Can you be First Lady?" he asked, untying the robe's belt and sliding it to the floor.

Olivia stood naked in front of him. He was only in a towel. They really didn't have time to continue making love, as they had that morning. Because she was feeling flirty, and somewhat fearless, she turned and walked naked toward the bathroom. Over he shoulder she said,

"What do you think, can I?"

He lunged toward her and grabbed her, kissing her passionately.

"Fitz, I just did my makeup."

"Well then, Livi, you shouldn't be teasing me."

"You're right. I need to get dressed. I just need a few minutes."

When she was ready, she cracked the bathroom door open to find Fitz sitting on the couch in his black pants, white shirt and suspenders. His bow tie was loose around his neck. His handsomeness was breathtaking. She flipped off the bathroom light, confident in her appearance, and stepped out into the hotel room.

"Ready," she said, quietly.

Fitz looked up from the crossword puzzle he had been working on. He took her in, an intensity in his eyes that he saved only for her. He had never her seen her this dressed up. She was extraordinary, and he told her as much.

"Thank you. I promised you stunning," she said.

"That word does not do that dress, or the woman in it, justice."

"I love you," Olivia said.

"I love you too. Help me with my tie?"

Olivia's father had often worn bow ties in his job at as a professor. She had the process committed to muscle memory. She tied it and made a few adjustments to make sure it was straight. They both turned to look in the mirror. Fitz slid his arm around her waist.

"Look at us. We've come a long way."

Olivia smiled. She took a photograph of this moment in her mind. She felt confident, loved and secure. It was an important moment.

"I have something for you," Fitz said.

He walked over to his suitcase and pulled out a long, velvet box.

"Fitz, you didn't have to do that," she said, taking the box from him. "I told you I had everything I needed."

"You did, and I heard you, but I thought this would be something you might want. And I heard it would match your dress."

Olivia opened to box and found a simple diamond tennis bracelet. It was a classic piece, and it sparkled from every angle.

"This is, this is beautiful. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Let me help you put it on."

Her took her left arm softly and secured the bracelet around her wrist. He kissed her hand, then held it in his own.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Absolutely."

They actually did not ride together to city hall. Fitz rode with Cyrus and James, while the rest of the group departed later and went straight to the club where the reception would be. When their limo arrived, Olivia, already giddy from a glass of champagne and from the happiness of the day, saw Fitz standing with Cyrus and James waiting to greet them. She noticed there was a small group of reporters, maybe five or six, waiting near them. The large group piled out of the limo, while Eleanor, Tom, Mellie and Hannah got out of a smaller car behind them. Fitz helped everyone out of the car, and as he touched Olivia's hand the feeling was electric. It was as if they were being reunited after a long absence, though it had only been an hour or so. He kissed her on the cheek as she straightened her dress. He held out his arm and she looped hers through his.

She liked that he didn't give her a pep talk. He didn't need to ask if she was ready, because she had already told him she was. They walked forward together, and he stopped in front of the small group of media following Cyrus and James, who had made their way inside.

"Mr. Grant, how was the ceremony?"

"It was lovely. Inspiring. I am proud to have been there."

"Is this you publically endorsing same-sex marriage, and do you want to see similar legislation passed in your home state?"

"No endorsement necessary, really. I see no reason why two people who love each other shouldn't be granted rights just because they happen to be in what some demand we call an atypical relationship. I've known Cyrus for a long time. He and James have a relationship that is probably more similar to yours, mine, and every other marriage out there than some would care to admit."

Olivia kept her smile. But she knew he had just handed them their next question on a silver platter.

"Speaking of that sir, will you introduce us to your date for the evening?"

"This is Olivia Pope. She is part of my team professionally, but also my partner outside of the office."

"Ms. Pope, how did you come to work for Senator Grant?"

"Cyrus Beene is a mutual friend. I met Cyrus at Princeton and have been working for him since I graduated. It's been a privilege."

"Are you part of the exploratory team helping Senator Grant explore a possible run for President?"

"I'm a member of a team of incredibly smart, dedicated people who have a common goal in mind, which is to keep this country moving forward."

"While also being the Senator's girlfriend?"

"Excuse me," Fitz said, trying to pull Olivia toward the door, for the first time sensing the need to intervene. But Olivia wasn't quite finished.

"I met Senator Grant on a sunny California day, and his outlook, his attitude, his professional drive for greatness matched the weather. Those qualities endeared me to join his team, because he is a great leader. Fortunately for me, those same qualities also make a great friend and a great partner."

With that, she grabbed Fitz's arm and they walked toward the door.

He looked down at her, because even in heels he was still a head above her.

"Impressive."

"I love you. That was easy."

"I love you," he said, leaning down to kiss her on the lips.

It would be that photo, with his hand on her bare back, her left hand on his elbow, her new bracelet hanging just right, their tender kiss, that would accompany the articles about the same-sex marriage of Cyrus Beene and James Novak. The caption: Senator Grant and his partner, political strategist Olivia Pope, share a quiet moment after speaking briefly with the press.

Before dinner was served, it was Fitz's turn to give a toast. For what felt like the first time all evening, he removed his hand from Olivia's back and stood.

"James, you are funny, kind, quick-witted and understanding. It has been a pleasure getting to know you through Cy this past year, and like my dad made reference to last night, it takes a special man to manage the manager, and you have proven to be the perfect partner for Cyrus. Cy, you are pushy. You are the smartest guy in the room and you never let us forget it. You think you know what's best for me, for everyone, and, well, as much as I hate to admit it, you're right. There is nobody I would rather have looking out for me than you, and you deserve every happiness that this union will bring you. Both professionally and personally, you are a path-maker. I am honored to walk the professional path with you, to be a journey person as you once suggested to me. But I am just as honored to share in your personal journey, and I would like to propose a toast: to Cyrus and James, may your journey be rich with love, may you cherish the quiet moments, as few as they may be, and may you live together happily forever."

Glasses were raised, good wishes were shared, and Fitz retook his seat.

"Nice speech," Olivia said, kissing his cheek.

"Thanks."

"Did Cyrus really tell you that you needed to be a journey person?"

Fitz turned to her. "He did. Why?"

Olivia smiled. "He said the same to me, when he called to make sure I would show up for work. He said I needed to stop focusing on the destination…"

"And appreciate the journey?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"He said the same thing to me, that day, as I questioned what I was getting myself in to."

Olivia smiled. Fitz put his forehead on hers.

"I'm glad we both said yes to the journey."

"Me too."

"Livi, it's just getting started. You were amazing out there. You're always amazing."

"As are you," she said, putting her left hand on his cheek.

He fingered her bracelet, his light touch giving her the chills.

"I love you, Livi. Thank you for being with me."

"Thank you," Olivia said, "for asking, and for helping me say yes."


	21. Chapter 21

By the time Olivia's 24th birthday approached in January 2007, two important milestones in her life had been reached. One was personal, the other professional.

Professionally, Project P was, as Cyrus had exclaimed during their first week back after the holiday break, a "go." Fitz's name was being mentioned in a big group of candidates, and work the team had done for the previous year and a half was starting to be anecdotally discussed on cable news and morning shows. Fitz's speech at the convention, his work with hurricane relief efforts, his socially moderate views about equal rights, his passion for research and education. The message was being conveyed, and people were beginning to take notice.

Personally, Olivia was now referring to Fitz as her boyfriend, her partner, to her closest friends. Their appearance together at Cyrus' wedding had only sent ripples into the political community, not waves. This was partly because Olivia was unknown to the wider community. She did not have much exposure to the public, and most of her work had happened behind the scenes. Briefs she wrote, text she contributed to the website, and other items had seemingly fallen under the radar. She was pleased to have avoided the scrutiny thus far. Another reason for the lack of attention on the couple was that they spent a lot of time apart, with Fitz in Washington and Olivia in San Francisco. They had spent Christmas at Fitz's home, but mood had been quiet.

Fitz's father was, by all appearances, in declining health. His mental capabilities were unfortunately declining, as was his ability to take care of himself. He required increased help almost monthly, and the decision had been made that he would enter an assisted living facility before spring. Fitz had waited until the last possible moment to make the decision. He liked knowing his dad was under Eleanor's care, and he liked picturing him in his home, comfortable, relaxed. The truth was that he was anything but relaxed, because he was becoming more and more confused and Eleanor and her staff had less and less control over him. It was time.

Olivia and Fitz had sat curled up with Tock laying across their laps, warm cider to drink, after the small Christmas dinner had ended and the house had emptied.

_"You want to know the truth?" Fitz asked quietly._

_"Always," Olivia said, as she sipped her cider with one hand and scratched Tock's back with the other._

_"The truth is that I thought if I kept my father here, he would stay the same. I know that doesn't make sense, but I really wanted it to be true."_

_Olivia nodded. She knew this exact feeling all too well._

_"I know he needs more care. I know I am soon going to be unable to check in on everyone like I do because I'll be busier and home even less. It's just really hard."_

_His breath caught, and he dipped his head into her neck, and she felt a few tears on her shoulder. She had to lean over Tock to set her mug on the coffee table, and then twist her body under the dog to face Fitz. Of course, she wouldn't ask the dog to move. He was needed by Fitz just as much as Olivia. _

_"Fitz, this is isn't easy. You'll never feel 100% sure you're doing the right thing. You have to do the best you can with what you have. Tom would not want you to back down now, and he would not want to be the reason you missed opportunities. I know you know this, that I'm stating the obvious. " She wiped the tears from his cheeks._

_"You have done the best anyone could do. You gave your dad at least a year of memories in a place that felt like home. You got him to Cyrus' wedding. And he's not gone yet. He just needs a different kind of care. He would be proud of how you handled this. No, scratch that, he is proud. I know he is."_

She kissed him softly. He buried his face in her neck and cried. The three of them remained there for hours, Olivia and Tock both quiet and still, knowing that what Fitz needed was time to process, time to cry, time to accept and time just be loved. No discussion required.

* * *

Olivia and Fitz decided to go out for dinner for her birthday to a restaurant that served Thai food. It wasn't fancy, and they were both wearing pants and shirts, though Olivia was of course wearing her bracelet as she always did. It matched everything, formal or informal, in her opinion. As they walked to their table, some people recognized Fitz and he stopped, said hello, and introduced Olivia as his partner. He refused to say "girlfriend" publically, but privately he liked to use the word as he held her, kissed her, made love to her. She was his first girlfriend, really, and he hoped she would be his last. But to the world, it was important to him that she was viewed as his equal.

As they shared fried basil rolls and pad Thai, along with white wine (a rarity for them), they talked about the day, the year, their upcoming schedules. Fitz was only in town for the weekend and would soon head back to Washington. When the last of their food was cleared, they were left with their after-dinner teas. The mood was quiet.

"Is everyone ready for tomorrow?" Olivia asked.

Fitz nodded. "Yep. I think he's all set. After our breakfast tomorrow, we'll head over with him and Eleanor and get him checked in and settled."

"Sounds like a good plan."

"I'm sorry it's happening on your birthday weekend."

"Don't apologize. I'm happy to be able to help. Or just be here."

"Love you, Livi," Fitz said, leaning over the table to kiss her softly. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you. I love you too. I'm glad you're here."

"Wouldn't miss it. And speaking of that," he said, reaching down for the shopping bag he had carried into the restaurant. He pulled out a large box that was wrapped in a silver ribbon. "Happy birthday, baby."

She smiled and slowly removed the ribbon. Inside the box was an ivory cashmere sweater. It was a cardigan, but did not have buttons. It was soft, warm and exactly her style. It was the perfect present for a January birthday. She lifted it out of the box and held it to her face.

"Fitz, you know me so well. I'll live in this. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Check the pocket."

Olivia searched the garment and found there was a small box in the right packet. She put her hand around it. It was a small velvet box.

Her hands shook. Fitz still brought out the unsteadiness in her, but in mostly good ways. She held the box and looked at him as she opened it.

Inside, she found a ring. Not an engagement ring. It was a simple eternity band of small diamonds. It was dainty, not gaudy. Classic. It was beautiful.

"I know it's a lot like the bracelet, circle, diamonds, simple…"Fitz said.

"But it's exactly what I like," Olivia cut him off. She stood up and went to his side of the table. She put her hand on his arm and leaned down to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you, Fitz. It's a beautiful ring. Will you help me put it on?" She held out her left hand, the middle finger. She thought that was the perfect place for the ring. The ring finger was too symbolic, but she wanted the ring on her left hand.

Fitz slid the ring on slowly. The both looked at it on her finger.

"Perfect," Olivia said. "Thank you, Fitz."

"It all comes back to you. Everything in my life. I guess that's why when I see circles and diamonds, I think of you."

She kissed him again. He went to the counter to pay their bill, and she waited in the small area at the front of the lobby. She looked down at her hand. The ring was beautiful, that was obvious. But what it meant, well, that was the best part. Him giving her the ring, and her accepting it, meant they were in this together. And that was a beautiful thing.

The next afternoon, Fitz stood in Tom's new room at the facility that overlooked the bay. It was a nice room, with a nice view. That's all Fitz could think of to say, or all that he could muster over the lump in his throat. That it was nice.

"Tom," Olivia said, sitting in the chair next to his and grabbing his hand in hers. "This a lovely room. I know they will take excellent care of you here, and maybe you'll even have a little fun."

"Fun? This is crap. Plain. I hate it here." Tom's tone was harsh, and he whipped his hand out of Olivia's grip and shooed her away.

"And who are you anyway? I usually don't bring girls around after one night. I don't want my son to know I'm doing this."

It struck Fitz that his father, in his own mind, was back to the time when he had just lost his wife, Fitz's mother. Olivia remained calm and stood.

"You're right, Tom. I hope you come to enjoy this," she said, as she squeezed Fitz's arm and said, "I'll be right outside."

"Thanks, Livi."

Fitz took the seat where Olivia had just been sitting.

"Dad, it's me, Three," he said, the nickname his father had used for him as a child.

Tom looked at him blankly. It was like he recognized the name, and knew what it should mean, but he couldn't resolve what he was seeing with what his mind was telling him, that his son was a child who needed to be protected.

"Oh, oh, I see," Tom said, trying to stall, trying to sort through what he thought he knew.

Fitz's heart was breaking, but he pushed on. "It's okay, Dad. Listen, I'm going to leave now and go back to work. I want you to know you're going to be okay here. They're going to take the best care of you or I will come back and find someone, or someplace, that will."

"Where are you going?" Tom asked, confused.

"To work. I work in the government."

"Grant, for the people?" Tom said. It was what he had used to tell Fitz, that Grants worked for the people and that they were destined to do so.

"Yeah, Dad. That's right," Fitz said.

"Do good, then." There was no acknowledgement that Tom knew Fitz. But Fitz got the message. He kissed his father on the top of his head, turned and walked toward the door.

"Dad, you gave me everything I needed. Thanks."

Tom gave him a small wave and looked back toward the window, gazing at seemingly nothing and everything all at once.

"Love you, Dad," Fitz whispered, to himself.

"Three?" Tom said, turning back toward the door.

Fitz was stunned. He walked back into the room. "Yes, Dad?" he asked, grabbing his father's hand.

"Proud of you, son. Could you ask your step-mother to bring me some coffee?"

A glimmer. A little bit of recognition. Fitz would take it with him and carry the moment with him forever. He nodded, closed the door, took Olivia's hand, feeling in his heart that as hard as it was, his father was in the best place he could be. As he walked with Olivia to the car, he glanced at her hand in his. He realized then that he and his dad had that in common. Being with Olivia was where he was his best. He had told her this before, and he would tell her whenever he could. And soon, if she let him, he hoped he would officially be able to be hers for the rest of their lives.


	22. Chapter 22

Life continued on for everyone. Cyrus, Olivia, Abby, Harrison and the rest of the team continued to work to prepare for an eventual announcement of Fitz's candidacy for president. Eleanor had been brought into the office on a part-time basis to help with organization. Really, she was there because everyone missed her. Tom was comfortable in his new living environment, as comfortable as he could be. There had been a few hiccups with the delivery of care and communication between the location and Fitz, but mostly he was happy with how things were going. Not happy, but pleased that they were doing the best they could for his dad. Fitz's schedule was busier than ever. He was doing work in Washington, Sacramento as always, but in addition he was making stops in places for small, town hall type gatherings, appearing on the occasional talk show to comment on issues on which he was focused or had some expertise. This was the case in July 2006, when the current president announced limits on the harvesting, storage and research of stem cells. Fitz and Olivia were speaking on the phone, both lying in beds alone, Fitz in Sacramento and Olivia in New Orleans where she was visiting Harrison's family with Abby.

"How can he do this? Don't answer that, it's rhetorical," Olivia said.

"Really disappointing. Just when some of these scientists are getting wind in their sails, the task becomes infinitely more difficult because of legislation like this."

"You should get out there and comment. We've already started preparing something for you to see on your way to the airport tomorrow. This is an issue that you've cared about for some time. Your opinion is relevant, and needed, and also, of course, right."

Fitz laughed. "You're supposed to be unbiased."

"I am. You're right about this. That is my unbiased assessment."

"How's Ms. Wright?"

"Doing well. Harrison is working on selling the land where their home once stood. It's a young family that wants to rebuild. It's still pretty messy down here."

"I know. It's hard to believe it was almost a year ago."

They both sat quietly, listening to the other breathe. A lot had happened for them in New Orleans. Their first argument, their first time making up. It had been momentous.

"When do you come?" Fitz asked.

"We fly tomorrow. Supposed to land around 4:00. What's your schedule?"

"I'm supposed to leave on a plane to D.C. in the morning. I don't want to. I want to see you."

"I want to see you, too, but it's important for you to make a statement tomorrow, and be seen doing the good work."

"I can do that from San Francisco. With you."

Olivia sighed.

Fitz sighed.

"This stinks. Living in different places." Fitz said what they both felt.

"It does, but it's temporary. You'll announce in a few months, and then we'll be on the trail, together. Not at home, but at least together."

"Your confidence still slays me. You're just sure there will be a trail for us to be on."

Olivia giggled. "More than sure. You're still you, aren't you? We've already started to get ready. A bus, hotel rooms, more staff."

"Make sure they don't book us both a room. I don't plan on being without you if I can help it."

"You're bad. But I'm one step ahead of you. We don't want to pay for empty rooms, but we also don't want anyone to see that you and I share a room at every stop. Which we will, of course."

"Of course," Fitz interjected.

"So we'll list you as having a room, me, and then Abby and Harrison will share the one meant for me. That's less, well, scandalous. Nobody will be searching our invoices for their names."

"Are we scandalous?" Fitz asked in his low baritone.

"Some might see it that way, yes."

"I like it."

"You like it now. You won't like having to answer questions about our relationship during interviews or debates, trust me."

"I do."

Quiet again.

Fitz continued. "There's one way I could avoid having to answer questions about us."

"Shipping me back to Princeton?"

"Making it official."

"You mean a joint statement?" Olivia asked.

"Maybe."

"Am I missing something?"

"As shocking as it is, you are."

"Fitz! Explain. What are you thinking?"

"Let's start with a joint statement and go from there. I'm feeling tired. Can we talk in the morning?"

"Sure. Love you."

"Love you too, baby. Goodnight."

"Night."

Olivia wrote the statement in her head before falling asleep. It felt exhilarating to think the words, "Senator Grant and Ms. Pope have been in a committed relationship for over a year." It was the last thing she thought about before she fell asleep.

Olivia met Harrison and Abby in the lobby the next morning. She found them seated on a couch, sharing the morning's newspaper. Harrison had his arm draped around Abby's shoulder, and she was resting her hand on his leg. Olivia felt a pang of jealously because she missed Fitz. But she was thrilled for her friends. It was rare to see them in a quiet moment. They were usually bantering back and forth.

"Morning guys," Olivia said, setting her bag down.

"Hey, Liv," Abby said.

"What's up?"

"Just reading about these restrictions. Is Fitz as mad as I think he is?" Harrison asked.

"Yes."

"I figured. We should use this as a time for him to be seen as presidential, get out there, make a comment, take a stand." Harrison thought just like Olivia and Abby now. Cyrus called them the Terrifying Trio.

"That's not a bad idea. I'll talk to him when we land."

"About that," Abby began, looking at Harrison, and he nodded.

"What? What am I missing? I hate this feeling!" Olivia said.

"I know, so I'm telling you now. Harrison and I, we're going to go stay here for a few extra days."

"In New Orleans?"

"Yes. We're staying here, and my parents and sister are flying out, and…" Abby trailed off.

"We're getting hitched, Liv." Harrison said firmly, but smiling.

"What? Married? How on Earth, when? Why didn't you tell me?"

"We just decided last night. It'll be small, with a dinner, like Cyrus and James'. But if you can stay, that would mean a lot to us."

"I mean, I think I can do some work remotely, but wait. You guys! This is fantastic news. Congratulations!" She hugged them both.

"Thanks, Liv. It just seems like a good time. If we don't do it now, who knows when the next available time will be."

"I understand completely. Fitz and I were just talking about how busy we're all going to be. Wow. Speaking of Fitz, may I call him and see if he's available?"

"Already done. He's on his way," Abby said.

"He is?" She checked her phone. He hadn't called or messaged her.

"We called him last night. He was going to take the first flight out. Cyrus, too."

"This group. We love weddings," Olivia said with a laugh.

"Fitz wanted me to tell you that he was going to have someone release the statement you two spoke about last night before he got on the plane. Can we go get me a dress, now?" Abby said.

Olivia racked her brain. They had talked about the stem cell restrictions. They had also discussed addressing their relationship head on. No alerts had been sent to her, no calls had come in. She wasn't sure exactly what he had been referring to until her phone rang while she rode in the back of a cab with Abby to a recently reopened dress shop.

"Olivia. Cyrus. Hello."

"Cyrus, hi. Are you here?"

"I'm in Dallas. Had to connect. It's atrocious. Not why I'm calling. I'm wondering why you would write this beautiful statement about your beautiful relationship and not run it by beautiful me first."

"Cyrus, I have no idea what you are talking about. I didn't write anything."

"You're telling me Fitz is a poet, too? Good God. Well, check your email. Call me back when the panic sets in. I'll see you in a few hours."

Olivia's hand shook. The cab pulled up to the store, and Olivia told Abby she would be right there. She opened her email from her phone, and read the following statement that had been released to various media outlets at 6:30 that morning.

"Senator Fitzgerald Grant is headed to New Orleans today to celebrate the wedding of two of his staff members, Abby Whelan and Harrison Wright. He is thrilled to take a couple of days to attend the nuptials of his close friends. His date for the event will be his partner and girlfriend of over a year, Olivia Pope. He and Ms. Pope look forward to reflecting on the growth of their own relationship while sharing in the joy of Ms. Whelan and Mr. Wright. Though he is extremely disappointed in the current administration's recent stance on stem cells and their potential to change science and medicine, he will address his concerns following his brief trip to New Orleans. He is eager to see the positive changes the city has made since his last visit following Hurricane Katrina. He looks forward to exploring the city with Ms. Pope and witnessing its growth and change following the devastation of the storm."

She couldn't have written it better herself. It was exactly what she would have said. This both thrilled her and annoyed her. Just as she was about to head in to help Abby find a dress, her phone buzzed.

**Just landed. Love you.  
Fitz**

**Going dress shopping. Nice statement, Senator.  
Livi**

**It was good, and you know it.  
Fitz**

**That's why I'm upset. See you at the hotel.  
Livi**

**Love you.  
Livi**

Sure, she was annoyed that he had done this without running it by her first. But she also loved him deeply, and was glad they were on the same page.

An hour later, Abby had purchased a short white cocktail dress. Live had gone with a black and white patterned dress, which she had to purchase as she had not packed anticipating a wedding. The ceremony would be the following morning, and everyone was on their own for dinner as Abby awaited her family and Olivia and Fitz awaited Cyrus. She had received a message from Fitz with a room number. She didn't ask for a key and instead just headed up to the top floor of the hotel. Of course. Fitz might be salt of the earth, but he couldn't resist a good view.

She knocked lightly on the door. She had half expected the latch to be there allowing her to enter, but the door was closed. When the door opened, her mouth dropped.

"Olivia, you should count your lucky stars I made it. Who makes connections? I'll tell you what, not me, ever again."

"Cyrus, hi," she said, hugging him. "I'm sorry about your ordeal. Perhaps it will help you relate better to people on the campaign trail."

"Perhaps, or perhaps I'll be scarred for life."

"Is Fitz here?"

"He told me to tell you to meet him on the roof."

"The roof. Of the hotel?"

"I would imagine. It's just up one flight of stairs, which are at the end of the hall."

"Okay…" Olivia said, with questioning in her tone and her eyes.

"Just go, kid. You can't run now."

And with that, Olivia handed Cyrus her purse and walked toward the end of the hallway and up the stairs. When she got to the top, she found the door propped open. What she saw when she stepped through the door took her breath away.

There wasn't a lot of walking space on the roof, but in the small rectangular area that wasn't covered my air conditioners or other equipment, there was a fire pit with a fire burning. It was almost 100 degrees, but there was a fire. There were dozens of ivory roses, on top of the equipment in vases, on the pavement around the fire, on strings hanging from piece to piece. There was soft jazz music playing. It might have been Stevie Wonder, but Olivia was distracted. Distracted because despite the beautiful setting, she didn't see Fitz.

She walked toward the fire pit, removed one of the vases of flowers from a chair, and sat. She took in the scene. It was beautiful in its own rooftop way. It was quiet. There was a fire. She sat back and relaxed, looking forward to some alone time with Fitz not in a hotel room.

"Livi," she heard, and she turned around.

Fitz was jeans and a light blue t-shirt that hugged him just right. She was glad she was also dressed casually in black cropped pants and a sleeveless silk ivory top and black sandals.

"Hi, baby," she said, standing up and hugging him. She could feel his heart beating. "This is lovely. Thank you."

"I'm glad you found it. Cyrus was in Tasmanian devil mode down there."

"We should probably get used to that," she said, kissing him again.

"Hi," he said, kissing her back.

"It's amazing up here. We can see the Gulf. I can't believe I'm seeing you today, and on the roof of a hotel in New Orleans."

She removed her arms from around his neck as she finished speaking.

"Livi, will you sit for a minute?"

"Sure, let's sit," she said, reaching for his hand.

He looked reluctant to her, but he followed. They sat, starting at the fire for minute, despite the fact that their legs were beginning to sweat. He turned to her.

"Livi, I did this so we could be alone," he said, nodding toward the roof setup.

"It's amazing. It was a great idea," she replied.

"But I also did it because I want to talk with you about something."

He had her attention. She turned to face him. He put one arm on the back of her chair and used the other to brush some hair out of her face and put it behind her ear.

"When I rounded the corner at my dad's house two years ago, I wasn't expecting to see anyone. I certainly wasn't expecting to see you. You seemed so young, on the cusp of something, kind of nervous."

Olivia smiled, remembering.

"I saw myself then as this confident guy who knew exactly how he life was going to go, you know? I would be a successful senator, I would live in peace. But it turns out I was much like you that day, I just didn't realize it. Because that day, meeting you, that was the day everything changed. I know I've said this before. But you need to know it. I was lost, and I was okay with being lost, I didn't think it mattered, but now that I'm found, I realize that being with someone, with you, matters very much."

She started to reply, but he put a hand up to signal that he wasn't quite finished.

"It took us two years almost to the day to get here. Two years of hoping, then feeling hopeless, of wanting, then needing, of wishes fulfilled and dreams realized. I didn't even know what I needed out of life until I met you. I was so sure I did, but you taught me differently. I love you so much."

"I love you too," Olivia said, pushing some of the curls near his forehead out of the way. He was sweating, presumably from the heat of the fire mixed with the heat of the sun.

"I'm so glad. There's just one more thing, and then we can get to being alone, but together. Tock?" He called once more and whistled, and Tock came around from an area of the roof that was blocked by machinery. He was panting, the poor beast, and he had in his mouth a plastic bag. Olivia worried for a second that he had found it and was trying to eat it, but when he got to them and sat next to Fitz, she realized the bag wasn't empty.

"Lots of drool, thanks buddy," Fitz said, petting his ears and kissing the top of his head. "Go get some water." Tock trotted away toward an area that was shaded.

Fitz fumbled with the bag, and then the enormity of what was happening hit Olivia like a ton of bricks. As he wiped his slobbery hands on his jeans, she saw that he had removed a small, black velvet box from the bag. Not dissimilar from the one she had removed from the pocket of her sweater six months prior.

"Sorry, I wanted Tock to be included. He was so happy to see you that first day, too. He would have been sorry to miss this."

She would have made a joke about Tock's human-like emotions, but she was stunned into silence. She swallowed.

"Olivia Pope, I love you. We started our journey two years ago, not knowing where it would lead. There's still some unknowns, but there is nobody I would rather face the unknown with than you. You are the love of my life."

He opened the box, got out of his chair and kneeled in front of her. He held out the box. Inside was another eternity band style ring, this one a delicate rose gold, but with two circles and larger diamonds. Much larger diamonds. It was a gorgeous ring.

"Circles, what can I say. I figured you wouldn't want something that drew attention to you, or us. I thought the gold would be so pretty against your skin," he said, looking at he hand, then back up at her. "And you can always get something different later."

She just stared at him. He hadn't asked a question. She didn't have it in her to give this one to him.

"Sorry, the point. The point is that we are the loves of each other's lives, and I can see no reason why we should not spend the rest of our days and nights together. You saved me from a life of solitude, and on my best days I like to think I did the same for you. Livi, will you marry me?"

* * *

Author's note: I know the previous couple of chapters have been pretty, well, fluffy. But I love these two characters, and I like to picture them lifting each other up and turning each other into the best versions of themselves. Thanks for allowing me to picture them as Olivia and Fitz with different (and somewhat fewer) complications. The story keeps going from here, as we have to learn Olivia's answer, and candidates begin to formally announce their intentions in November.


	23. Chapter 23

The following things all happened in what was probably, in reality, three or four seconds. In Olivia's mind, everything was slow motion. She looked down at the ring Fitz was holding. Two attached circles of rose gold, each encircled with 12 of the biggest diamonds she had seen. Her gaze moved to her left hand, currently shaking but containing the first ring he had given her, much smaller but with the same promise, she realized. She turned her head to the right and saw Tock, content in the shade. She turned back to Fitz, looked into his eyes and saw both her past and her future all at once.

She had spent so much time alone, by choice. She had carved out a life that was easy, safe, and private. She had imagined herself living alone, watching movies and eating popcorn, working for people who needed her help and never needing much more than that. That plan had all changed with one phone call from Cyrus, and one chance meeting with Fitz. She hadn't realized it then, but his eyes, the way he listened, what they both shared, it had all mattered. All of the pieces had added up to totally change Olivia's future. She had real friends. She was doing work that was unpredictable, but fun. She had visited new places. She had opened her mind to the possibility that anything might be possible, even if it wasn't in her plan. But most of all, she had Fitz. She had an intelligent, driven, compassionate man who cared about the little things and the big things, and cared about her in a way she hadn't felt since she was twelve years old. Sure, it was a different type of love. But it was love, and it was real, and it struck her then that it was as important to her as any of the other goals she had set for herself along the way.

When she was brought back to reality, she was looking into Fitz's eyes, which of course matched the color of his shirt. He looked hopeful, he looked handsome, he looked like a man in love. With her. She took the box with the ring out of his hand and set it next to the fire pit. She kneeled down in front of him and put her arms around his neck, and his naturally went around her waist, pulling her close to him. She inhaled his scent, felt the warmness of his embrace (and the fire) and took a breath.

"Yes," she whispered into his ear.

He had been holding her tightly. He didn't let go.

"Yes?" he whispered back.

She pulled back just enough to look at him.

"Yes." Her eyes were full of tears, and suddenly his were, as well.

In one quick motion, he lifted them off of the ground and hugged her, lifting her off of the ground.

"I'd spin, but you might catch fire," he said, laughing. Olivia giggled. He set her down.

"Livi, you just made my life."

"Stop it. It's my turn for a second," she said, wiping her eyes.

She told him all of the things she had thought before giving her answer. He put his hands on her face as she spoke and wiped the tears away with his thumbs.

"I love you, Fitz," she said, finishing. "This moment, and you, mean more to me than I could have ever imagined. Thank you for giving it to me, and for getting me here. I'm happier than I believed possible."

"I love you, too. We're getting married!" he yelled.

At the sound of his voice raising, Tock rose and walked over to make sure everything was okay. They both bent down to pet him, smiles planted on their faces.

"That you brought Tock, and that you feel he would have been sorry to miss it, it only makes me love you more," Olivia said.

"He would have! We're getting married!" Fitz yelled again, then kissing her over Tock's back.

"Someone is going to hear you and come check on the crazy man on the roof," Olivia laughed.

"Livi. We're getting married," he said, more seriously.

"We're getting married," Olivia repeated, allowing the words to sink in. To feel their weight. She anticipated a future that was filled with joy.

He reached for the ring. "May I put this on? I've been waiting to see how it would look."

She held out her hand. It still shook a bit. He slid the ring onto her left ring finger and kissed it. She held up her hand.

"It's exquisite. I love it. I'm going to move my other ring over. Don't want to brag too much," she said.

"You could also wear it as a necklace."

She looked at him wide-eyed. "Are you a jeweler, too?"

"Cyrus suggested it when I told him you were now going to have two rings from me."

"Cyrus. That guy. I knew something was up."

"I told my dad, too. He didn't know who you were, and probably didn't know me, either. But I wanted him to know."

"That's thoughtful. It's the thought that counts," she said.

"I guess I felt that by telling Cyrus, I was telling someone who was a little bit like a parent to you. I wish," he began. Olivia could tell what he was about say.

"You wish you could have asked my parents for permission to marry me because you are kind and traditional?"

Fitz nodded.

Olivia's eyes filled with tears. "I wish you could have done that too. But you have to trust me when I say that wherever they are, they are giving their blessings. They can't come back, but you brought me back to life."

She cried then. She was sad to not having any family with whom to share this moment. She was happy to have a fiancé that knew how much that would have meant to her. She was overwhelmed with emotion. When she finally stopped crying and looked up at Fitz, who had been holding her and whispering that he loved her in her ear, she felt cleansed.

Sniffling, she said, "Come here, Tock."

She moved the two chairs closer to each other, and then close enough to stretch her legs to the edge of the fire. Then, she and Fitz sat together, holding hands, Tock under their legs, watching the sun set.

Olivia and Fitz decided not to share their news until after Abby and Harrison's dinner the following evening. The group was sitting around a table at a bar where they had headed at the end of the evening. Abby, Harrison, Cyrus, James, Fitz and Olivia. There was a lull in the conversation, and Fitz made eye contact with Olivia and she gave him a little nod.

"Guys, there's something I need to tell you," Fitz began.

"If you choose the day of my wedding to tell me I'm out of a job, I will run against you in the next senatorial election," Abby said. "Sir."

The table laughed.

"You are not out of a job. I didn't share this sooner because I didn't want to overshadow this day, which was amazing, by the way. Abby and Harrison, my best to you. I'm so happy for you both."

"Here here!" James said, and the group all took a drink.

"So what's up, Fitz?" Harrison asked.

"Well, something happened yesterday afternoon. I asked Olivia to marry me, and she didn't say no."

There was silence.

"She said yes?!" Abby shrieked.

"She certainly did."

There was uproar at the table. Hugs were exchanged. Abby held Olivia tightly, conveying her happiness in the tightest hug they had ever exchanged.

"Liv, this is amazing. I'm so thrilled for you," she said.

"Thank you. And thank you for your help, you know, at the beginning. You've been a great friend," Olivia replied.

"Of course. You deserve it."

The celebration continued late into the night. The business would continue first thing in the morning, with Fitz giving an interview to the morning shows about his views on scientific research, and with the team deciding how to announce that a future candidate for President of the United States now had a potential First Lady.


	24. Chapter 24

Olivia hated that a team was formed to assess the best way to "roll out" her engagement to Fitz. She understood it, and would have recommended it herself if he were engaged to someone else, but she still hated it. What was worse was that she wasn't involved in all of the meetings. Decisions were being made about how she should be introduced, how they should speak, and that irked her. She had grown into a confident person in the world of politics; it was her view that she didn't need anyone to tell her how to act.

Majority rules, however, and even Fitz thought she should take a step back and let more objective members of the staff determine what was best. He told her that she wasn't a robot who could be programmed, so she automatically had veto power if they prepared something she didn't approve, but that she needed to let them do their jobs.

There were no wedding plans to be made until an announcement was made. There would be no announcement made until the team could agree upon the right time and place. It would be before November, before Fitz announced his candidacy. It would also be when Olivia felt ready to leave her current role and transition into the role as fiancé and future wife of a senator, and perhaps President.

That might be the hardest part of it all, as she had explained to Abby over dinner at the home she now shared with Harrison.

"I was starting to build a career. I felt confident in my abilities, in my instincts. Marrying Fitz will be easy. Giving that up will be the challenge."

Abby was thoughtful for a moment.

"Will you be able to?"

The question hung there for a moment longer than Olivia should have let it.

"Liv, look. I know it's a huge change. I'll be honest, I'm glad it isn't me. Because your responsibilities just changed significantly, as did the amount of exposure you are going to receive. Like it or not, you are a potential FLOTUS. You can stay out of it for a while, the primaries if we make it, you don't have to do anything but smile and wave. But if we get in this, you won't be in the same meetings. You won't be making the same decisions. You'll be campaigning, and speaking, and developing a platform."

"Wow, this is really encouraging, thanks," Olivia said, sipping her wine.

"It should be! I think all of those things sound extraordinarily interesting, because they are. But you have to be ready. You have to be able to give up who you were starting to become, Olivia Pope, kicking ass and taking names. You're soon to be Olivia Grant. It has a nice ring to it. But it also comes with some strings."

Olivia sighed. Harrison walked in, having been in the kitchen clearing the dishes.

"Love you Liv, but Mrs. Wright here has hit the nail on the head." He kissed Abby on the cheek. They all smiled.

"I know. Thank you for putting out there so plainly for me. It's all in my head. It's just a lot to process."

"Look, if it gets hard to process, glance down at your left hand. That stunner is a reminder of what you're moving toward." Harrison was right. The ring got prettier every time she looked at it.

"You're both right. I have some time to get there. And I'm there with Fitz, and let's all say an 'Amen' to that."

"Amen," they all said aloud.

Later that night, Olivia spoke with Fitz on the phone. He was in Sacramento, she was in San Francisco. She was still in her apartment, because they didn't want to live together until the world knew about their engagement. But Tock was with her, and he laid right next to her in bed, keeping her warm and helping fill the space left by Fitz.

"How was your day?" Olivia asked.

"Okay. We had a vote, went as planned, as I'm sure you saw. Dinner with a few bigwigs from a tech firm in the area. I'm exhausted. I miss you. How was yours?"

"I miss you, too. It was fine. More of the same at work, you know, eavesdropping on conversations about turning me into your fiancé, and then I had dinner with the Wrights."

Fitz laughed. "Any scoop?"

"I'm sure you know more than me."

"I know they're shooting for late October, around my birthday, so in a few weeks."

"Are you okay with that?" Olivia asked.

"Are you?"

She breathed into the phone, shifted in bed a little.

"I love you," Olivia said.

"I love you too, Livi, but that's not what I asked."

"I know. I'm okay with it. I will be okay with it. I'm adjusting, or trying to anticipate the adjustment. It's a lot."

"It is. I want you to be okay, I want you to have all of the support you need."

"I have you. I have Abby. I have Cyrus."

"What about hiring an assistant for you? Someone to just be going through the process with you, someone you can bounce ideas off of."

"Wow. This is happening," Olivia sighed.

"Livi, if I'm president…"

"I know. I'm the First Lady. My stomach is in knots at the thought."

Fitz laughed. They had gone through this and it always ended with them laughing hysterically at the different mental pictures of them in the White House. Them with Tock in the Rose Garden. Them bowling in their socks in the basement of the West Wing. Them making love on the carpet of the residence where other presidents have stood. But Fitz was talking now not about what made them giddy, but what made it real.

"I know. It's a lot. Now maybe you understand why I had to be convinced to even try this."

"I do. I gave you a good speech about the magic of it. I should probably listen to my own advice."

"You absolutely should. First, though, you should magically appear in this bed next to me so I can have my way with you."

"Fitz, not in front of Tock," she said. They said their goodnights and looked forward to seeing each other soon for what would presumably a combination of his birthday and the announcement of their engagement.

* * *

Over the next week, Olivia began searching for an assistant. Aide. Whatever. She wanted the person to have some experience in the world of politics, but to also be somewhat green. She was new to this, and she didn't want someone shaping her. She just needed someone to help her organize what sure to be her ever more complicated life, and someone who didn't have a full slate of responsibilities already. She considered Mellie, but given their age difference and her intensity, decided against it. Cyrus recommended a former colleague, but Olivia hadn't gotten a good vibe on the phone. It was James who finally recommended a lawyer from Stanford he had used as a resource for an article on a university issue. A week after Fitz had suggested it, Olivia found herself sitting across from Lindsay Dwyer at a coffee shop in San Francisco.

"Have you lived here your whole life?" Olivia asked. "I'm a fairly new resident, but I've loved it."

"Yeah, yes. I grew up here, Stanford undergrad and law. I considered other places for law school, though not seriously. I like the energy. The people. The sunshine."

"I'm with you. So James told you why you're here, and I appreciate your discretion until a formal announcement occurs."

"He did, yes, and I understand completely. Ms. Pope, I've only worked as a practicing lawyer for a year, but if you talk to my references or my professors, you'll find I am a quick thinker. I would imagine that is why James thought of me for this position. My parents were both teachers, and they taught me that the best way to learn is to know how to think. I've found that has helped me at every turn."

Olivia liked Lindsay's confidence. She was clearly bright and motivated.

"What makes you want this particular job?" The answer here would tell Olivia what she needed to know.

"That's a good question. I love the law. I love the judicial system. I love debating about policy with anyone who will allow it. But I've found that the actual practice of being a lawyer isn't, as it turns out, my life's achievement. I enjoy it, but I long to do more. Be more. When James called and gave me some vague details about this, I was intrigued. Meeting you, and hearing about you, Senator Grant and what you both wish for each other and the country, it fits. You said that Senator Grant has always wanted to do the good work and that is what you drew you to him and the campaign. That fits for me. That's what I've been trying to articulate in this extremely long-winded answer."

Olivia smiled. Lindsay would be hired next week and serve as her personal aide for the foreseeable future.

* * *

The evening before the announcement, Olivia sat with Lindsay in what was now Lindsay's office, right outside of Olivia's door.

"This is good. It's well-crafted, concise and leaves no room for interpretation. You can think on your feet, so if there are any insipid questions, you'll be fine. Did you select an outfit?"

"I did. Thank you. You've worked so hard on this, and you've had my back. I can't thank you enough."

"You just said it twice. That's plenty, given that it's my job. I know having outfits proposed was probably weird, but we tried to go with things that were your style."

"Definitely weird. But I supposed I should get used to it," Olivia said, sighing. "And you should go home. It's getting late. I'm waiting for Fitz, and we're going to have a late dinner. Unless you'd like to join us."

"Oh no, I should go home. My boyfriend will be shocked to see my before 7:00. I'll see you in the morning at the house," Lindsay said, putting a file and her phone in her purse and grabbing her keys.

"Sounds good. See you tomorrow. Tell Jesse to hold on tight, the ride really begins tomorrow." Olivia had met Lindsay's boyfriend at a welcome-to-the-team dinner she and Fitz had hosted the previous weekend. He worked in computer science, but Olivia already had her eyes on him for website development and social media management for the campaign.

A couple of hours later, after deciding to order dinner in rather than go out, Olivia and Fitz were sitting on the couch in his home, watching Harvard play in a pre-season basketball game. She was beginning to doze off and knew she needed to go to her apartment. She would get ready there, and Greg would pick her up and drive her to Fitz's home in the morning.

"Baby," she said, turning in his arms, realizing he was dozing, too. "Sorry, shhh, go back to sleep. I'll see you in the morning, okay?" She kissed him softly on the cheek.

"Mmm," Fitz said, waking up, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her close. "Not yet, Livi."

"We should sleep. Everything will be different tomorrow."

"Different on the outside, sure. But we'll still be us," he said, kissing her collarbone.

"You're right. I love you."

"I love you too. What can I do to convince you to stay just a little longer?"

Before she could respond, he sat up and pulled her onto his lap. She was straddling him, and she could feel his hardness and it immediately made her heart begin to beat faster and her hips to move toward his. He lifted her t-shirt, actually his that she had borrowed, over her head, revealing an ivory lace bra that only enhanced the smoothness of her breasts, of all of her skin, really. He put his mouth on her neck, on her chest, then pulled the cups of her bra down and began sucking on her nipples. Slow and tender at first, and then harder, even biting, which almost sent her over the edge. She could feel that she was ready for him, and she heard herself moan. She took one of her hands off of his shoulder and instead of unbuttoning his pants, as she knew he was expecting, she put her hand under the waistband of her yoga pants and began touching herself. She was right about two things, that she was ready for Fitz and that he was not expecting to see her do something so forward. He growled and unhooked her bra. She helped him with his shirt and pants, and in one move he was able to lay her on the couch and remove her pants and underwear. Lying naked together, Fitz stopped to take in the moment. He was engaged to this amazing woman. His thought was interrupted by Olivia putting her hands on his hips and guiding him into her and then sighing deeply as he began moving in and out, more quickly than usual given his heightened state of arousal due to her previous behavior. They moved together, periodically kissing, with Fitz saying he loved her as always right before they both came, together, and fell into each other panting.

"That," Olivia said, "will never be different. It will always be good."

She felt Fitz smile into her shoulder.

"On that, we agree."

She slept soundly that night, thinking of her future husband, of her future in general and of what was to come in the morning.

Olivia looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing grey pants, a peach blouse with grey flowers, a pearl necklace and earrings. Her engagement ring looked lovely against her blouse. Surely that was thought of by whomever had helped Lindsay suggest outfits for her.

She was sitting next to Fitz on the couch in his home, surrounded by video equipment. They had selected someone from CBS to conduct the interview, which would air on the weekend morning show the next day. They would also make an announcement after taping the interview. It was thought that the announcement, plus their taped interview would suffice for now and answer most of the questions the media might have. Still, both Fitz and Olivia knew that life as they knew it was about to change.

Fitz was wearing navy blue slacks and a white collared shirt with light blue stripes. He had fought and lost the battle to have his sleeves rolled up.

"You aren't building a home here, Fitz," Cyrus said. "This is a planned interview. You should look like you are capable of putting yourself together."

The room laughed, but Olivia could tell that Fitz was nervous, too. He was looking for something to do with his hands, rubbing the button on his cuff. She grabbed one of his hands and whispered in his ear.

"You can use your hands on me later."

He blushed, smiled, kissed her sweetly and said, "How do you always know what to say?"

"It's why you're marrying me."

"One of the infinite reasons."

The reporter walked in and greeted Fitz, whom she had met already, and introduced herself to Olivia. Everyone settled into their seats and the interview commenced.

"Senator Grant, Ms. Pope, it's lovely to be with you this morning. Thank you for inviting me into your home, Mr. Grant.

"My pleasure, Ms. Rhimes. I've lived here for ten years and it has been a great home base of sorts."

"I can imagine. Ms. Pope, do you live here as well?"

"I do not, though I agree that it is a great home base. I live in a neighborhood near the marina. It's been wonderful getting to know this city by spending time in many different areas."

"You're from the east coast, right?" the reporter asked.

"I am. I grew up in a small town in New Jersey and then attended Princeton. It certainly has been a change of pace to have not seen snow for a couple of years." Olivia smiled sweetly.

"And your family? Did they move with you, as well?"

She had known this was coming. She and Lindsay had prepared. She looked briefly to her right and saw Abby and Lindsay both nod, and Fitz squeezed her hand every so slightly.

"My parents both passed away when I was young, before I was thirteen. It's unfortunate because we spent a lot of time near the ocean, and I know they would have loved it here."

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Ms. Pope."

"Please, call me Olivia, and thank you. I miss my parents every day, but in some ways they're also still a part of every decision I make. I've been learning how to keep them close without letting losing them define me." Olivia glanced at Fitz. "Fitz has helped me with that."

"I can imagine. Senator Grant," the reporter began.

"If you are calling her Olivia, you should call me Fitz," he said with a smile.

"Sure. As I was saying, Fitz, I imagine that the loss of your mother at a young age, sharing that in common with your girlfriend has brought you closer together."

Fitz looked at Olivia. "It has. Obviously our losses were different, because it really is such an individual thing, grief. But it has been something we have been able to talk about without fear of judgment, and I would say that we are both here today because of a set of life experiences that, though different in many ways, were similar enough to force us to make the connection."

"Did you have to force it?"

Fitz laughed. "I wouldn't say that. I meant that neither of us were looking for a relationship when we met. I was hard at work for the state of California, and Olivia had just moved here to work for Cyrus Beene, a friend of mine. But certainly our histories played a role in drawing us together."

"I agree," Olivia said. "And it has been wonderful to grow into this relationship at our own pace, while still leaving time to do the work we are both so passionate about."

The reporter sat back in her chair. "I have to say, you two seem pretty in tune with one another. I know I'm not here today for your official announcement that you are running for president, right?"

Fitz laughed heartily. "Not yet, Ms. Rhimes. A group of hard-working people, and myself, are taking a look at the work we've done, the work we want to do, and how best to do what we need to do for California and the country."

"I see."

"We invited you here today because we wanted to share that I proposed to Olivia and she said yes. We plan to get married next summer."

"Wow, congratulations you two!"

"Thank you," Olivia and Fitz said in unison.

"I'm, of course, thrilled to have this amazing, smart, kind, beautiful woman agree to be my wife," Fitz continued, looking at Olivia. "I know it sounds cheesy, but we've both taken long journeys up to this point and it is refreshing to know our journey will continue for the rest of our lives."

"Ms. Pope, Olivia, how are you feeling?"

"Overjoyed. Honestly, I cannot think of a better word. I'm happier than I've ever been, to be here, to be engaged to Fitz, to be planning a bright future together."

"I can see that. But it has to be asked, have you thought ahead to if you are successful in your potential bid for the White House? What people might say about a woman in her mid-20s being First Lady of the United States?"

Fitz didn't flinch, but Olivia knew this kind of question would bother him. Olivia was ready.

"Have I thought about it? Of course. I've thought about all of the first ladies of the past, who have been graceful, intelligent and compassionate. I've thought about what it means to represent the country in that way, what an honor, privilege it is. As someone who studied politics and has been immersed in in for some time now, it would be silly for me to sit here and say I haven't thought about it."

"And you want to be the First Lady?"

Olivia laughed. "If I were to ever be in that position, I would hope to be as treasured and valued as others who came before me."

"Here's what we know for sure, Ms. Rhimes. Olivia and I will be partners for life. Wherever that journey takes us, whether it is to Washington or Sacramento, we'll be in it together."

The interview continued, with talk about current events and other issues. It ended with a small tour of Fitz's house and a meet and greet with Tock. When the reporter left, everyone sat in the living room in silence. Cyrus was the first to speak.

"I'll be gosh-darned, that went just about as good as we could have hoped. Do you two practice this in bed? Is that your pillow talk?"

"Cyrus, you're inappropriate and I love you," Olivia said.

"Back at ya, kid."

Lindsay spoke up. "The way you handled those questions, it didn't seem rehearsed, you both did so well."

"Thanks, Lindsay. And thanks for helping Olivia for the past couple of weeks."

"What's with you two and the double thank yous? I'm excited! Let's keep going. What's next?" Lindsay's enthusiasm got a laugh from everyone who was still decompressing from the interview. But it inspired Cyrus.

"What's next is we get ready for the announcement. We have a candidate, we have a fiancé, we have a platform, and now the campaign begins." Cyrus had a twinkle in his eye.

"I'd also like to plan my wedding now, if that's okay," Olivia said.

"It's more than okay," Fitz said. "I can't wait to be your husband."

"I can't wait to be your wife."

"And I can't wait to be the guy waking you up in the middle of the night from now until the end of your second term!" Cyrus said.

Everyone laughed again, lunch was served, and wedding talk was mixed with campaign planning in a way that only made sense to this small group of friends on a mission. Multiple missions. It was going to be a big year.


	25. Chapter 25

There were many reactions to the announcement of Fitz and Olivia's engagement. They generally fell into two categories. The first was that people were surprised Fitz would settle down at all, happy that he was happy, but intrigued by his choice given his political aspirations. The second was that Fitz was insane for getting engaged and married prior to running for President and that Olivia was not prepared to be the First Lady.

These reactions were expected. There were people on the staff, public relations people and others, who were hired to navigate situations just like this. Still, it was difficult for Olivia to stay silent while people discussed her past and her potential on a nightly basis. On the one hand, she was happy she didn't have any skeletons in her closet. On the other, the presumption that she didn't understand what she was getting herself into offended her at her core.

"They keep saying where I went to school, who I studied with, what I've done. Then in the same breath, they say I don't know anything!" Olivia was venting to Fitz.

She sat down in the chair in his home, which was now her home. It was decorated for the holidays, mostly because of Olivia's touch. Fitz was in California for the holiday, but also to attend a fundraiser for his campaign.

"Livi, it's par for the course. Soon it'll be my background they're assessing. At least they're not insulting your character, or showing you making flubs. Given that you are flawless," he said with a smile, "that would be impossible."

"I won't always be flawless," she said. "I'm going to mess some things up along the way." This was Olivia's new fear. She had always set herself up for success and now a lot of her life felt out of her control.

"Sure, but that's natural. That's life. I have nothing but confidence in you." He walked over at sat next to the chair beside her, holding out his hand. She took it.

"Thanks, baby," she said.

"July 28, can't come fast enough," Fitz said.

"It needs to stay where it is, seven months away. I still have a lot to do."

"Tell me what I can do."

Olivia looked at him. "You know what you want to wear, you know who we should invite, you've approved the color palate. The rest is details. Let me take care of it."

"Yes, ma'am. You're totally ready to be First Lady," he said with a smile.

"I don't think I'm ready right this second, but I think I can be. We still have almost two years. I just," Olivia stopped.

"You don't have to explain it to me. You're right, you have time to show them who you are."

"Who am I, Fitz? I'm sorry, I need some reassurance tonight."

"Livi, don't apologize for that. I'm now legally bound to tell you you're amazing. You are smart, you are funny, funnier than me, you are thoughtful, you care about people. You are my beautiful fiancé and the only woman I would ever want by my side, at the White House or in our house."

"That's very kind of you to say. I love you."

"I love you."

"I'm sorry, I just," Olivia said.

"No more with the sorry! I'll give you pep talks if you promise to do the same. We're in this together, remember?"

The fundraiser was held during the week between Christmas and New Year's, and it was Olivia and Fitz's first official outing as an engaged couple. Olivia wore a white dress with black lace cap sleeves, and Fitz was in a tuxedo. As they rode in the backseat of the car, she grabbed Fitz's hand and held it tightly. She sensed, correctly, that this was the true beginning of the next phase of their lives as a couple.

Held in an art museum, where a silent auction and hopefully large donations from the arts community would help bolster the finances of Fitz's campaign, the event was successful. There were many prominent Californians in attendance, almost all of who were strangers to Olivia. She had been studying pictures and names, and found her work pay off when she was able to greet many people by name that she had never met. Fitz was impressed. She was charming, she sounded confident and she was beautiful. She was working the room as best she could, and he knew this was a new challenge for her. For a time, they were separated, when she got sucked into a group of wives of media managers discussing a new gadget. After a few minutes, when he found himself alone, he scanned the room for her. She wasn't with the wives. She wasn't anywhere that he could see. He reached into his pocket and found his phone.

Getting some air. Back in less than 5. Love you.

Livi

He made is way to the lobby of the museum and saw her silhouette standing under the heat lamp outside the main door. It had seemed over the top when the arrived because it wasn't that cold, but she wasn't wearing a coat so he was glad to see she was being sensible. He quietly joined her. For many minutes, neither of them spoke.

"Good air," Fitz finally said, giving her a nudge.

She turned to look at him, and that's when he saw the same look in her eyes he had seen on other occasions. She looked sad, scared and alone.

"Livi, what is it? You ready to go? I've talked enough, let's get out of here."

"No, Fitz. No. This is for you. This is all for you. The party, the people. I realized in there that it's not for me."

"Of course it's for you, we're going to be husband and wife. We're a team."

"I mean, it's not my scene. It's not something I enjoy. I'm trying, I tried, it's just I reached a limit and I bolted. I admit it, I ran," she said, raising her hands, almost in defeat.

"It's fine. It's our first one. They'll get easier." He was being understanding.

"Easier, sure. But I hate it in there. It's not me. I don't think it ever will be." There must have been some honesty potion in the champagne.

"I wouldn't expect you to like it, I know it's not you. But I don't know what you want me to say, I'm running for President, and this sort of thing goes with the territory. And we're engaged, and so attending things together does, too."

"I know. You're right. I'm just…"

"Unhappy?"

"Right now, in this moment, yes." She sighed. It was the truth.

"Livi, I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. Let's go back in."

"Absolutely not. I'm not going to torture you."

"But you're right, I have to do it! The future Mrs. Grant should be good at this! If I want you, I have to want this, too."

"Olivia. Stop. I said we can go. There will be other parties. Don't work yourself up about this, it really isn't worth it." He was still trying to be understanding, but he was also trying to prevent her from running any further away from him than she already had.

"You just called me Olivia. It sounded so paternal."

"Jesus, what can I say that's right? I say we can go, you say no. I say you don't have to do anything you don't want to do tonight, and you say you're unhappy. I use your name, you say I sound like an old man. I'm at a loss."

He rarely lashed out at anyone, let alone her. She took it all in.

"I'm lost, too," she said quietly.

"But I'm right here."

"You're here. And I love you. That will never change. But this," she said, pointing toward the party, "this feels wrong. I was so ready. I have the dress, I knew the names, I talked about some tablet that's like a big cell phone that I don't care about at all. But this isn't me. I don't know," she said.

"You don't know what?"

"I don't know if it ever will be."

Silence. Olivia thought she might have heard an insect crawling on the cement. She looked at the lines of Fitz's face, each she had traced numerous times. His eyes, their own color, his lips that soothed and excited her. She loved him so much, and yet here she was, admitting she might not be able to be who she thought she could be.

"I think we should go. I'm going to say goodbye, and we'll go." Fitz didn't want to respond to what she had said. He didn't know how.

"No."

"No?"

"You go back. I'll take the car home, and then send it back for you. You do what you need to do in there, and I'll be waiting for you at home."

"Livi, that's not okay. I'm not sending you away from here like this. I want to go with you. Let me be with you."

"No, Fitz. I won't ruin this evening anymore than I already have." She kissed him on the cheek, whispered in his ear that she loved him, then stepped out into the sidewalk to signal the car that she was ready.

As she stepped in, he walked over toward the door.

"You'll be at home?" he said, needing reassurance.

She nodded, mouthed that she loved him and softly closed the door. Fitz watched her drive a way with a lump in his throat, then turned and headed back into the party.

Two hours later, Olivia heard the car pull into the driveway. She had fallen asleep on the couch in her dress, not having the energy to take a bath, change her clothes or think. She stood to meet Fitz at the door. When he walked in, she smelled the alcohol on him immediately.

"Hi," she said.

"Hello," he said. Cold.

"Did the last couple of hours go well?" she asked, truly interested and hopeful that they had.

"Not sure. I went and said goodbye, then went to a liquor store, then to the marina."

"You were just sitting at the marina, drinking, alone?"

"Who else would I drink with? My best friend left me stranded at a party."

The words hit her one by one. She was his best friend. She had left him stranded. He had felt deserted in the same way that she had felt totally out of her element.

"Fitz, I didn't mean to strand you. I was trying to save the night. I thought you could continue doing what you do without me holding you back." There it was. The real truth. She didn't want to be the reason he failed.

"Livi, enough. It's not up to you to save my nights. You fucking save them just by being. Stop trying so hard. I can't keep up, I can't do the right thing, I can't do this."

He was really drunk. She tried to think of the last time she heard him swear. It was about a nurse that had acted improperly in taking care of his dad.

"I'm sorry. I mishandled things tonight. I panicked. I need more time, I should have stayed home"

"No!" he said, not raising his voice, but saying it in such a way that it startled her. "You're my fiancé. We should be doing things together. It doesn't get easier unless you try. And you were great tonight! If you stayed home every time you wanted to, we wouldn't be together. I might have never met you. Don't you see, Livi?" he asked, sliding down onto the floor in the hallway. "It's not easy for me either. But it's easier with you. I'm sorry for yelling. I can do this, I just need you to say you can, too."

She wanted to say that she could. She wanted to be there for him the way he needed her to be. But she didn't want to lie. She sat down next to them.

"We're going in circles tonight. Let's go to bed. We can figure this out in the morning." She put her hands around his arm and put her head on his shoulder.

"You can't say it." He said sadly.

"I don't want to say anything else tonight. I just want to clean the slate and start over again tomorrow."

"You can't do this, Livi? You don't think you can do this?" He sounded so young, so needy. She hated that she was bringing this out of him, but knew it came from a place of love and the need to be assured that she wouldn't leave him. She didn't ever want to leave him. But she didn't want to say anything she didn't mean. He deserved better.

"Fitz, I can be your wife. I can absolutely be your partner in life. The public aspect, the First Lady in waiting piece, that's much more challenging for me."

"Then I'll quit," he said, slurring his words a little. "Who fucking cares anyway?"

"You do! I do! A lot of people do. Come on, this isn't you, you're drunk, I'm exhausted, let's put this day to bed."

"I think you all care a lot more than I do. And I think I cannot do this if I also have to be asking if you're okay at every turn."

If had been looking for a way to engage her in this argument, he had found it.

"I did not ask you to ask me if I was okay. I went outside for air. You followed. You insisted we leave. I didn't ask you to come with me. I didn't ask you to rehash all of my shortcomings outside of the museum. I was trying to regroup. I do not need you to ask if I'm okay at every turn. If I gave you that impression, then my apologies, but I am trying to sort this out. I'm trying to figure out what I can and cannot do, something I have done independently for over ten years. If that surprises you, then maybe you don't know me as well as you thought you did."

"Of course, of course, you don't need me. You don't need anyone. You're you, and you'd rather be alone, so now it's my fault for checking on you. I won't apologize for that Olivia. I care about you. I wasn't, I didn't mean to imply I had to babysit you, it's just that I can't…"

"You can't do this if I can't do this. I heard you. But here's the thing. You should be able to. You agreed long before we were in love. You have been a successful lawyer and senator before you ever had me to think about. So you can do this. There's evidence to support that. I won't allow you to say that you can't do this without me. It's too much pressure, and it's just not true."

"You don't get to decide that!" he said, standing up, leaving her on the floor looking up at him. "If we are doing this, whatever we are doing, getting married, running for office, going to the movies, then we are doing it together, or we're not doing it at all."

Tears filled Olivia's eyes. She hadn't wanted to start this tonight. He wasn't in a place to have this conversation, and then there it was.

"Fitz, please. One thing at a time. There are a lot of issues here, and we can talk about them, but let's do it tomorrow."

"Of course. I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable," he said. She could tell he was being sarcastic. He started walking toward their bedroom. She was still sitting on the floor.

"And Livi?" he said, and she stood, hoping he would come back and embrace her. He didn't.

"Yeah?"

"I didn't agree to do this before we were ever in love. I loved you from the first day I met you. That you didn't know that about me, well, maybe you don't know me as well as you thought you did."

Her words, used against her. Even in his drunken state, he was still alert enough to throw them back at her. He slowly walked toward the bedroom. She went to the couch, laid down, pulled two blankets over her and fell asleep. Alone.


	26. Chapter 26

Olivia woke before dawn. She had placed her left hand under her cheek and found an imprint of her engagement ring on her face. She was cold, and her back ached, so she tiptoed toward the bedroom. She found Tock at the door to the room, which was open. The dog must have sensed what occurred hours earlier, because he wasn't in his usual spot at the foot of the king-sized bed. She bent down and scratched his ears, whispering good morning and telling him he should join her in the bed. The dog seemed relieved when he watched Olivia walk around to her side, removed her dress and throw on Fitz's under shirt that was on a nearby chair, and quietly slip under the covers, and Tock followed by jumping up and settling into his usual sleeping spot.

Olivia faced Fitz, who was laying with his eyes closed. He had taken off his dressy clothes and was simply in his boxers. Olivia watched him and thought about the words they had exchanged last night. She had been honest, and she knew he had done the same. She had tried so hard the previous night to be who she knew she needed to be. Articulate, thoughtful, bubbly, and there for Fitz. She had had some success, but had bailed at the first hint of failure, or fear. She had been standing with a group of women, a group of seasoned political wives. Someone has asked about her upbringing, what schools she had attended and she had answered and engaged in conversation until one of the women asked about Fitz's dad. Olivia had answered with a general explanation of how he was doing, no details as she and Fitz had discussed, and one of the wives asked a follow-up question. It was innocent, and well-meaning, but Olivia was not prepared to talk about the pain of losing her parents in public. An interview was different, that she had prepared for. But in that group of women, basically strangers, she had froze. She had excused herself as graciously as possible and made her way to the front door of the museum.

She didn't think it mattered what had caused her to run. What mattered was that she had, that she hadn't been prepared enough, mentally, to stay and push through a difficult situation. She was angry with herself. She know she had let Fitz down last night, had left him stranded after they had promises to do this, run for President, together. She knew her insecurities had played a role in the argument, but she was also replaying Fitz's words in her mind. He had felt like had had to check on her. It was all or nothing. He couldn't do it without her. He had been so frustrated with her, so disappointed. What he had said was true, because as soon as he challenged her she had fought back, trying to portray a strong, independent woman who didn't need a man. She knew it wasn't true, but she said it anyway. And now here she was, exhausted and laying too far apart from the man of her dreams in the bed they were supposed to share forever.

"Hi," Fitz said, with his closed.

"Hi," she said. "I'm sorry if I woke you. It's early, go back to sleep."

"I wasn't asleep. I've been trying, but it's not that easy without you."

"Fitz," Olivia began.

He opened his eyes and looked at her. She was beautiful, even with puffy eyes and a furrowed brow. He had been drunk last night, but he remembered their exchange. She had been as honest as she could, even though he still got the feeling there were things she wasn't saying. And he had swore at her, more than once, and expressed his frustration about her wavering confidence. That's what it was, that was the root of the frustration, but he hadn't done a very good job explaining it. He knew she could do whatever she wanted with her life, and he wasn't going to force her to be someone she didn't want to be. But her lack of confidence, and her shutting him out, that was what had angered him the most.

"No, Livi, let me start."

She nodded and fluffed her pillow, getting comfortable. They were each laying on their side, he on his right, she on her left, facing each other.

"I'm sorry for coming home drunk. That was irresponsible. I was confused when you left, and I didn't want to be at that thing alone. I'm sorry for yelling, and swearing. You deserve better from me."

"Apology accepted. I really screwed things up last night. You had every right to be upset. I'm sorry I left you confused. I didn't do a very good job explaining myself, and then when you came home, I went into fighting mode."

"Because I challenged you."

"Sure, but you were probably right to do so. It all had to come out eventually. It just, well, it all came out last night."

He wanted to laugh, smile, hold her. But he was still searching her face for evidence that the next thing out of her mouth wouldn't be a goodbye.

"Fitz, I love you."

He exhaled. Relief washed over him.

"I love you, too. More than anything."

"I just need more time. And I need to be honest with you, and myself, about what I can do. I can attend functions with you, but I can't go in unprepared. I wasn't ready to talk about my parents last night, and I absolutely handled it the wrong way, but I just wasn't ready."

"Your parents? You were asked about them?"

"Yes. It came up, it wasn't malicious, but I froze. When I left, I thought I'd just get some air and come back and find you. But then you found me, and I reverted to my old self. Put up the shell."

"I wish I would have known."

"Why? The end result is still the same."

"Because, Livi. I love you. It's my job to hold you up when you need support, and that was a time when you should have asked for it."

"I don't disagree, but you have to understand I was trying to be who I needed to be. I was trying to avoid you feeling like my keeper. That feels unnatural to me. I know you know me, you get me, but the thought that I would bring you down, or ruin this for you. It's too much for me to bear." For the first time, her eyes filled with tears.

"You will never ruin this. We just have to communicate. What I said last night about having to make sure you were okay, I don't mind that. But I can't guess, you can't speak in code. You have trust me that I want to be here for you, you have to trust that I will be, you have to trust me," he said, becoming almost breathless.

Tears spilled down her cheeks. She did trust him.

"You said," she said sniffling, "you said that it was all or nothing. What if, in the spirit of communication and trust, I told you right now that I can't do this? That I want to marry you but that I can't be First Lady? That I'm not ready?"

He pulled his hand out from under the covers and used his thumb to wipe her tears. Feeling his touch soothed her.

"Then I would say, we'll wait. We'll get married, live our lives, and see what the future brings." He didn't even need to think about it. But he needed to know if that was hypothetical, or if that was how Olivia felt. "Are you telling me that's what you need?"

His hand was still on her cheek. She pulled her knees up and scooted closer to him, so that his outstretched arm naturally fell around her body. She was curled into his warm body, and he pulled her even closer and waited.

She looked up. "No."

"No, that's not what you need?"

"I just need time. I need to learn more. I need to figure out how to be me, out there where everyone can see. I'm always me here, with you, where I feel safe and protected with the man I love. It's out there that scares me."

"I know." He kissed the top of her head.

"Fitz?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to be in this race?"

He needed time for this one. He didn't loosen his grip, but turned to be laying on his back. Her head fit perfectly on his shoulder and she wrapped an arm and a leg around him.

"I do. I think, I feel, there's some good work I could do as President. But it's a long road, and I'm already weary. I know it might be a lot of pressure. I get that. But I meant what I said, and that is that I cannot, no, I will not, do it without you. Maybe I could, you're right. But I don't want to."

His voice cracked. She looked up and saw just a few tears pooling at the bottom of his eyes. He looked down to meet her eyes and the tears fell down his face. She propped herself up and kissed his cheeks.

"Livi, I promise I will never ask you to be someone you aren't. As long as you promise to tell me how you're feeling, how I can help, even it that means you need me to give you space or whatever."

"I promise."

He smiled and kissed her softly on the lips, and she returned to her spot at his side.

"Fitz, I have one more question."

"Yes, I loved you from the first day I met you."

She propped herself up again. "You have no idea if that was my question."

"It was, though, wasn't it?"

"Dammit, yes."

They both laughed and kissed. Olivia stopped before it got past the point where her body wouldn't allow her to stop and pulled away, awaiting further comment.

"What? I might not have known it then, but I know it now. The way I felt when I saw you, when we spoke, when you left. That day was the day I fell in love with you."

Olivia sighed.

"I love you, Fitz."

"I love you, too. Thanks for coming back."

"I never left," she said.

"I know. I meant to our bed," he said, and they made love multiple times before the sun was fully raised in the sky.

xx

The week before Olivia's birthday, Fitz was scheduled to appear on a Sunday morning news program with other presidential hopefuls. It wasn't a debate, just a discussion, but Fitz had been in preparation all week to try and frame is message and have responses ready to the questions and comments of others on the panel. Olivia drove him to the airport on Saturday morning. When she pulled up to the curb, she put the car in park and put her hand on the back of Fitz's neck. He leaned into her, turned his head, and kissed the inside of her forearm.

"You sure you don't want to come?" he asked.

"I want to, but I can't. I have a meeting on Monday morning with Lindsay's boyfriend about the website. This is the last project I have my hand in on the campaign, and I would like to be a part of it for as long as possible."

"Understood. I'll see you in a few weeks." Fitz would be staying in Washington, missing her birthday, until the next long weekend in February. There were some votes coming up and he wanted to maintain a presence in Washington. He would also attend two private fundraisers in Virginia and North Carolina.

"We'll be here. I love you, Senator. You'll be wonderful tomorrow."

"Thanks, Livi. I'll call you when I land."

They kissed passionately in the front seat. It started slowly, but ended with Fitz untucking Olivia's soft sweater and rubbing his hands up and down her back. She responded in kind by hooking her hand on his belt and pulling him toward her.

"I," he said, kissing her neck.

"Love," she said, nibbling on his ear.

"You," he said, putting a hand on her breast and resting his head on her shoulder. "Livi, you can't leave me like this." He sounded desperate. It turned her on.

"I don't want to, but we're in the arrivals lane at the airport. Public." She said, breathing heavily.

"There's a hotel, we can walk to it from inside. Livi, please."

She giggled. "Do you really think that's a good idea? Do we even have time?"

"It's a great idea, and yes. Head to short term parking."

The whole way around the airport to the parking lot, Fitz had his hand on her stomach, tracing circles on her thigh, touching her. Her entire body was humming. She pulled the car up and grabbed a ticket, and pulled the car into the first spot she could find. Fitz immediately pulled her over the center console of her small car and onto his lap. They were kissing furiously, and their mutual arousal led to them grinding on each other like high-schoolers. Olivia was the first to pull back, and she put both hands on his chest.

"Fitz. Gerald. Grant. This cannot happen here. Let's go."

They tumbled out of the car and were walking toward the airport hotel hand in hand when Fitz heard someone call his name. It was Greg. They were flying together.

"Fitz, Olivia, hi. Good timing," Greg said.

Olivia and Fitz looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"What'd I miss?" Greg said.

"Nothing at all. I have to go anyway, I was just going to keep Fitz company."

Fitz looked pained, but knew she was right. "Greg, head on in, I'll meet you at security." He turned to Olivia.

"And to think, I was going to give you an early birthday present."

She smiled. "It'll have to be belated," she said, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him.

"Go be great tomorrow, I'll be watching. And call me. I miss you already."

"Me too. Love you," he said, kissing her.

"I love you."

He didn't let go at first, and he pretended to be stuck holding her. They laughed and she smacked his bottom as he walked away. They were happy, she thought. They had battled a few weeks ago and somehow come out on the other side even happier than before.

Though the foundation of their relationship was solid, the core of Fitz's campaign took a hit after a disastrous appearance at the roundtable discussion that aired on national television. Fitz had seemed overly passionate about the topics he cared most about, but had lacked knowledge to discuss the issues that were less important to him personally. Though he had prepped, he struggled with spontaneity, something that was new to him and left him rattled for opportunities to speak during the discussion. Overall, it had been a poor performance. Fitz new it. Cyrus new it. Olivia knew it. He called her from his Washington apartment.

"Hi baby," she said, answering after one ring. There was no need for pretense here. She had been waiting for his call.

"Hi. One to ten, ten being the worst it could have been."

"Seven," she said.

There was silence.

He laughed then. "Well, I asked you to be honest."

"It wasn't your best, but you don't need me to tell you that. But you had some moments, and you'll build on those."

"How's Cyrus?"

Olivia laughed. "On the tantrum scale, I'd say he's at an eight."

"You really are the funniest member of this relationship," Fitz said laughing.

"It'll be discussed, you'll take some hits in the earliest of polls, but you'll have a lot of other opportunities. And, I would imagine, a lot more practice."

Olivia was right. It was discussed. Fitz's campaign numbers took some hits. But they all kept pressing on. He got some large donations from private donors. He appeared on a daytime talk show and was charismatic and passionate. He even danced. His website, thanks to Jesse, Olivia and the rest of the social media team, was complete. Despite his lack of national exposure or success, Fitz had individuals and smaller groups of people excited about certain issues. They weren't done yet, when Fitz returned in February for a long weekend, most of it was spent in their dining room, practicing for an interview he was scheduled to give on a morning show in a week. It would be Fitz and a frontrunner, split screen, discussing their similarities and differences. As the topic was research and education, Fitz felt confident. That interview would be much more successful. It would be, what many would say later, the first time the entire country took him seriously as a presidential candidate.


	27. Chapter 27

"Liv, you're set to marry a candidate for president. How do I say this nicely? Buck up!" Cyrus exclaimed.

It was April, and Fitz's poll numbers were rising. His appearance with the then-frontrunner for the party in an interview on a morning news program had bolstered his popularity and since he had become more visible to the country at large. Most of the spouses of the candidates were still only sideline players, but many on the campaign staff thought it was time to start introducing the country to the future Mrs. Grant. At 25, Olivia was young. She had little experience in the public sector. She was inexperienced. None of those things were disputable, but the goal of Cyrus and everyone tasked to get Fitz elected was to use those qualities to their advantage.

"Cyrus, I hear you. Do we really think I need to sit down with the queen of daytime television for an hour tell-all?"

"Yes. 100% absolutely, without a doubt. When she calls, you not only pick up the phone, you say 'Yes.'"

Olivia sighed. She knew he was right. It was the right thing to do for the campaign. She was, of course, terrified.

"What will we even talk about?"

"We'll know ahead of time. We can control it as much as possible. But Liv, one of the things you have going for you is that you are quick-witted, you think on your feet. Combine that with your passion and commitment to social issues, and I think you will become fast friends. You'll be going to her ranch for tea afterward!"

"Okay. Schedule it," Olivia said, and Cyrus hurried out of her office to make the call. Lindsay walked in.

"Scheduled?" she ask.

"Happening now," Olivia answered.

"Excellent. I'm going to work on your calendar to plan some time each day to prepare. Did you get my memo about the website hits?"

Olivia had. The website traffic was increasing almost daily. Small donations were coming in, starting at as small as $5. The team was encouraged, as this seemed to mimic the rise in polls from young, energetic voters. A new group of people had been hired to coordinate get out the vote efforts for primary season, which was now less than a year away.

"I did. I think it will be a big part of the campaign. Nice job."

"It was your idea, but thanks. I'm going to grab lunch, you want anything?"

"No, thanks. Fitz will be here shortly, we're going to try and eat together."

"A meal while the sun is up? Good for you!" Lindsay said, laughing.

"Don't jinx it," Olivia said with a smile.

An hour later, there was a knock on her door, and Fitz walked in carrying his garment bag and a leather messenger bad that had belonged to his father. He had just arrived from Washington, where the previous weekend he had appeared on a Sunday news program again, this time having much more success. To say he was finding his stride was accurate. To say that this made him very nervous was also accurate. Seeing Olivia eased some of his anxiety immediately. It was odd to be away from someone he loved so much on a regular basis, but he also enjoyed the rush of seeing her for the first time in days. She got up from her desk and met him by the chair in her small office as he set his luggage down. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

"Hi," she said.

He took her in. "Hi." They kissed again, as Fitz pressed her into the back of the chair. She propped herself up and put her legs around his waist.

She smoothed his shirt. "How was your flight?"

"No problems. What'd I miss here?"

"Not much. Well, I agreed to do the interview. So I guess that."

"Livi, you sure?" he asked, sincerely. Since their argument a few months ago, they had been slowly easing her into public functions. He thought this interview would be a great opportunity for her, but he didn't want to push her. He had Cyrus for that.

"Am I sure it's a good idea? Yes. Am I sure I want to do it? Of course not."

Fitz laughed. "You'll be great. You'll be best friends by the end of it. She'll love you."

"Cyrus said the same thing. I knew he was doing the dirty work."

"I think it's a good idea, too. I think you will knock her socks off, and America's."

"Thanks, baby. You ready for lunch?"

"I'll be ready in a minute." With that, he picked her up and walked around so that he was sitting in the chair with Olivia on his lap. After he had his way with her, they gathered themselves and headed to their favorite café.

Midway through their cobb salads and iced teas, Fitz's cell phone rang.

"Sorry, I should get this. It's Dayside." Dayside was the facility that had been taking care of Tom.

Fitz answered. Olivia could tell within seconds that it wasn't good. She motioned to their server and paid the check while she heard Fitz use words like, "I see," "I'm here, yes," "How serious?" and "On my way."

He hung up. Olivia was signing the check.

"Thanks for doing that. We should head over. Dad fell, he's not in good shape."

"We're all set," she said, taking a deep breath. "Let's go."

They walked to their car hand in hand. Fitz's palm, usually sturdy and protective, was sweaty. She didn't ask for any details. She knew she would get them soon enough.

When they arrived at Dayside, a staff member was waiting for them at the door. Unfortunately, a news reporter was as well. It bothered both Olivia and Fitz, but they didn't have time to think about it. The staff member briefed Fitz about his dad's condition on the way up to his room. It sounded as if he had fallen while walking through the door to head to the outdoor courtyard. The staff member who had been escorting him believed that perhaps Tom had tried to push the door open with only one hand, causing him to lose his balance. Someone had found him right away, but he was groggy and more confused than usual, in addition to some bruised ribs, a small fracture in his right hip and other abrasions.

When Olivia and Fitz entered the room, she tried to limit her physical response to seeing Tom, sleeping in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV and with visible injuries. She, of course, thought of her mother. She squeezed Fitz's hand as he separated from her and headed to his Dad's bedside. He had some questions, and Olivia listened carefully to the discussion. It was still early, they were waiting for some test results, they were hopeful his brain function wouldn't be diminished, but typically incidents such as falls or other accidents affected those with neurological disorders more severely than those without.

Olivia nodded at the woman as she left and then made her way toward Fitz and Tom. She put her hand on the small of Fitz's back, but said nothing.

"It was always going to come to this," Fitz said quietly. "I didn't think it'd be now, though."

"I know. Don't give up yet. There are still some unknowns."

He turned to her then and put his arms around her.

"If this is hard, we can sit outside, or you could head home for a bit."

"It's hard, but not too hard. I'm here for you, always."

He rested his chin on the top of her head.

"I'd like to stay here for a while and I left my bag in your office. Do you think you could run and grab it for me? Or call Lindsay and ask her to bring it over?"

"Sure. I'll go, and get us some tea and snacks. Anything else you think you might need? I'll get a phone charger, too."

"That will be more then enough. Thanks, Livi. Hurry back."

"Love you," she said.

"I love you too."

Olivia was not prepared for the reporters to be standing outside of the facility's doors as she exited. They weren't right in front of her, but as soon as her foot left the sidewalk, they cornered her.

"Ms. Pope, is Governor Grant ill? Was this a scheduled visit? Is Senator Grant at his bedside?"

Quickly, her mind went into business/politics mode. She knew she had to say something, but she wanted to speak carefully. She stopped, turned around, and kindly asked the five or six media members to step back. She took a deep breath and brushed her hair out of her face as she removed her sunglasses.

"Thank you, all, for your concern. I won't be answering questions, but as I know you and others might be concerned about the health of Governor Grant, I can tell you that he unfortunately had an accident here today. The staff here at Dayside responded immediately, and Tom is in stable condition but being monitored very closely. Senator Grant is with his dad as we speak. We received prompt notification from the caring people here and were told to head over, so we did. That's all the information I'm comfortable sharing right now. But I'm sure I can speak for Fitz when I say that we really appreciate your concern for his dad, as well as your understanding that this is a private family matter."

"Ms. Pope, did the governor suffer injuries? Was the accident related to his deteriorating physical health?"

"As I said, this is not a press conference. When and if the family decides the sharing of information about the governor's condition is prudent, someone from Fitz's office will let you know. For now, we appreciate your continued thoughts and good wishes for my future father-in-law and his family and friends."

She turned and walked to her car. As soon as she was safely inside, she pulled out her phone and sent a message to a small group of those she trusted, telling them what had happened and that she would be at the office shortly. She knew that a story would be in the media in less than five minutes. She called Fitz, as well, and let him what had happened in the parking lot.

After stopping by the office, speaking with Cyrus, Greg, Abby and Harrison, it was decided that an official statement affirming Olivia's assessment was required. They did not want to share more details, especially because the situation was fluid and could change at any moment. Still, Olivia was not surprised to see the same group of reporters waiting for her as she was dropped off at the door of Dayside by Lindsay, as Cyrus did not want her driving herself.

"Ms. Pope, any updates?"

She turned slowly.

"Guys, like I said, thank you for being here. I know it means a lot to everyone who knows Tom that you are concerned about him. But this truly is a family matter, and as many of you might understand there is a lot of information to process. This is not an easy situation for anyone, but Fitz and I appreciate your support. Trust that if there are developments, you will be informed of them in a way that is sensitive to Tom and his needs as well as appropriate for the situation."

With that, she turned and walked inside. Before she was to Tom's room, she had a text from Cyrus telling her she had done a good job. Word certainly traveled fast.

Unfortunately, as Olivia rounded the corner to the Tom's room, she saw Fitz standing in the hall with what appeared to be a male doctor and also the head of the facility. She recognized her from when Tom had moved in. Fitz saw Olivia from down the hall and instinctively put his arm as if to invite her into half embrace. She quickened her pace and filled the gap, his arm going around he waist.

"Dr. Shepard, this is my fiancé, Olivia Pope. Please continue. She's family."

"Sure thing. As I said, Tom was already nearing the final stage of his condition, and unfortunately accidents such as the one he suffered today tend to exacerbate issues and symptoms. Without having witnessed it, based on you dad's injuries I think it's safe to say that his diminishing reflexes were a factor. When he wakes up, we'll continue with the neurological tests, though based on what we have monitored up to this point, including the swallow test, I have to be honest with you. I'm concerned about his muscle function, and how that might hinder he ability to recover from this fall. I don't know that any further testing will do anything but confirm what we knew based on my previous consultations with the medical personnel here, and that is that your dad is nearing the end of his battle with this disease. I'm so sorry. Tom responded well to our interventions, but at some point, unfortunately, most patients stop having those positive responses and most doctors, myself included, have to be willing to say we have tried all that we can."

Olivia exhaled. She hadn't noticed that she had been holding her breath. She thought to the day her father had given her a similar speech about her mother. How she had known what he was going to say before he said it, how she had felt in her bones that her entire world was about to change. She wondered if Fitz had known when he got the telephone call. Her guess was that he had.

"It sounds like you're saying our best hope is that he is able to recover from some of his superficial injuries and return to the status quo, which was already fairly grim. Am I hearing that correctly?" Fitz asked. He was still holding onto Olivia, and she put her arm around his waist to make sure he knew she was there.

"I'd say that is our best case scenario, yes. Is it the most likely? Based on what we know, I'd say probably not. Your dad was already in the final stages of Alzheimer's. Incidents like the one that happened today tend to speed up the progression, if you will."

"I see." Fitz cleared his throat, and Olivia heard the familiar hitch and realized he wasn't sure what else to say.

"Dr. Shepard, may I ask you something?" Olivia said.

"Absolutely."

"In your medical opinion, but also just in your human opinion, what is our best course of action from here?"

She heard Fitz exhale. He nodded at her as if to say, thanks.

"That's a great way to phrase it, because in many cases those two things might be different, but in Tom's case, my opinion is the same. I think we hope we can keep him comfortable and stable while recovering from his injuries. I think we watch him carefully for any changes or complications due to the complexity of Alzheimer's. I think we take all that we know about him and this disease into consideration as we make any other decisions about his care."

"Thanks, Dr. Shepard. My dad would have loved your candor, as I have for the past couple of years. I appreciate the time and effort you've put into his case as a consultant, helping me make what I hope were the right decisions for his care."

"Senator, it's my job, but you should know that you have done all that you can do for you dad. He's in good hands here," Dr. Shepard said, nodding at the facility manager. "I'll be checking in with them periodically and will absolutely head back down if necessary. I'm glad I was coincidentally in the area today for a conference."

"We are too," Fitz said. "Thanks again."

"One more thing," Olivia said, as it looked like the doctor and the manger were going to depart. "Privacy for Fitz and Tom is obviously a priority for us. Is it okay with you," she said, looking at the manager, "if all updates come from someone from Fitz's office? I would rather not burden someone here with the task of updating the media when they could be doing their jobs inside."

It was agreed that no one from Dayside would be speaking with the public. Dr. Shepard shook their hands and left, followed by the manager who filled them in on who was on the team that would monitor Tom around the clock. Olivia and Fitz were then alone in the hallway outside of Tom's room. Fitz stepped back and leaned against the wall. Olivia turned to stand facing him.

"Shit, this is hard. I knew it was coming. It might have happened tomorrow, or in a month, but I wasn't ready, today, you know?"

"Yes. It doesn't matter when it happens, it's your dad, and you are never ready."

He looked at her. "Of course you know, I'm sorry, that was a silly question."

"It wasn't. It was an astute observation that I can, unfortunately, relate to. No apologizing today. Do you want to go in, or maybe go sit outside for a few minutes?"

"I'd like to go in. I've been gone enough, if I'm here I'd like to be in his room."

"Let's go," she said, grabbing his hand and leading the way into Tom's room.

Over the next few hours, the people closest to Fitz arrived. Cyrus, James, Greg, Mellie, Abby, Harrison, and then finally Eleanor. She entered the room with tears in her eyes, and Olivia met her by the door and immediately embraced her.

"How is he?" Eleanor asked.

"He's the same as when I spoke with you. But you should know that he never would have made it this far without you. I am not overstating it. Thank you for all of your support over the last few years. I'm glad you're here."

They embraced again, and Eleanor made her way toward Tom's bed.

Cyrus walked over.

"You're handling this like a champ, kid," he said. "This can't be easy, and you're holding Fitz up, rallying the troops and saying all the right things. Of course I'm saying this rather than addressing the situation because it's too devastating for me to process, and I'm a crass politician, but I'm glad you're here."

Olivia nodded and smiled. "Thanks, Cyrus. I think it's safe to say that Tom would appreciate your crassness."

As the darkness settled in outside, the room emptied with promises for updates as needed. Cyrus had a staffer release another statement that there had been no change in Tom's condition. Only Eleanor remained. She stood to go.

"Fitz, your dad loved you so much. I feel honored to have been with you for the time that I was. Thank you for trusting me with his care for as long as you did."

"You," Fitz said, walking toward her, "were a Godsend. I had more time with him because of you. You gave him amazing care and were a friend when he had lost many. Of course he also thought you were his girlfriend, but in any case, I can't thank you enough."

The three of them laughed softly.

"I'm going to head home. Please call me if there are any changes. And you," Eleanor said, turning to Olivia, "you, my dear, are the light in the darkness. You'll make an excellent first lady. Your kind words earlier were incredibly thoughtful. It was a pleasure getting to know you."

"Don't speak in the past tense," Olivia said, walking over to hug her. Hugs came so freely to her now with people she cared about. "I'm glad to know you."

Then, it was just Fitz and Olivia sitting on the small couch in Tom's room. There was barely enough room for both of them, but they weren't about to sit in the folding chairs that had been brought in for the other visitors. They needed to be close, to feel each other, to not be alone.

"I'm so tired," Fitz said.

"I would imagine. The last update from the doctor on call here was pretty much the same as the one before it. I'm sure we could go home and come back if we needed to."

"I know, but," Fitz began.

"But we're staying." Olivia stood up and dragged two chairs over to use as footrests. While she did that, she saw Fitz go over to the bed and whisper something into his father's ear.

They sunk down into the couch and dozed off throughout the night. When the alarm started on the machine monitoring Tom's heart rate around 3:30 in the morning, for a split second Olivia mistook it for an alarm clock. But it wasn't, and the room immediately filled with the medical staff. Fitz and Olivia were asked to leave, and then stood in the deserted and dark hallway listening to the staff working on Tom. Fitz slid down the wall, sitting on the hallway floor and pulling his knees to his chest. Olivia followed. When the commotion stopped, and the alarms were silenced, Olivia held out hope that all we well. But again, she knew. Before the door opened and the doctor entered the hallway, she turned to Fitz.

"Eleanor was right. Your dad loved you more than anything, and he would be so proud of you. You have done everything possible to care for him. I love you."

He turned, his eyes filled. "I love you too."

The door opened, the doctor walked out, Fitz and Olivia stood, and the news Olivia feared was delivered. Fitz shook the hand of the doctor, thanked him for his efforts, and went inside to say his final goodbye to his father. Olivia remained in the hall for a few moments, then went in and did the same. They left before sunrise, leaving through the back door and getting silently into the backseat of Abby's car. Nobody was thinking about a public statement. Nobody was thinking of anything except for Fitzgerald Thomas Grant II, his legacy and how much he would be missed.

* * *

Author's note: Sadly, this chapter was always coming. RIP to this kind, generous, supportive and fictional version of Fitz's dad. Thanks, as always, for reading.


	28. Chapter 28

Olivia wore black.

It was her first funeral since her father's. That had been a small gathering, perhaps 60 people total. Colleagues from work, Olivia's old teachers, a couple of family friends. Because the last years of his life were spent caring for his wife, Olivia's mother, Gregory Pope hadn't had a busy social calendar. Not that he ever complained about it. The care he showed his wife, and Olivia, was part of the memory she held close to her heart. It was why she had such affection for Eleanor. She knew how hard it was, what a toll it could take, to care for someone who was deteriorating before your very eyes.

She purchased a new black dress, a short-sleeved black with white silk lining and wore her classic black pumps. She wore simple jewelry, just her engagement ring and pearl earrings. She was ready before Fitz, who had taken a lengthy shower after fitful night of sleep. There had been a private gathering for those closest to them the previous night, and the formal ceremony was to be help this morning. It had been one week since Tom had passed away. Fitz had been stoic for most of the days. There were times when he could laugh and tell stories about his dad, and times when he needed to be alone. Olivia related to the roller coaster of emotions. She tended to Cyrus, who missed his friend, and to Tock, who instinctually followed Fitz everywhere and had more difficulty understanding a slamming a door. She phoned people and invited them to the funeral service. She monitored Fitz's work email. She was doing the best she could to do what he needed, which was for her to just be there. Even if it meant reading alone in the bedroom while he stained his deck.

The previous evening, toasts had been given. Olivia sat on the deck alone with a cup of hot tea, Tock next to her on the outdoor sofa, thinking about Fitz's speech.

_My dad and I spent the first part of my childhood as Grants two and three, alone in a big house. A real bachelor pad. We both missed my mother terribly, but he missed her more. I missed her calming presence, I missed the happiness in our home. But he missed his wife. His partner. His friend. He didn't realize it then, but despite his less-than-perfect behavior, he was teaching me how to be a man. How to be responsible. How to accomplish your goals despite enduring great loss. He gave me a lot; a good education, a network of people to help further my career, a solid foundation for a life. But something I realized in the last few years was that he also loved me, very much. There was a time when I questioned that, which seems so silly now. He was a stern man, sometimes for no reason, sometimes for reasons only he understood, but he loved. He loved his friends, he loved my mother, her loved me. He loved me enough to push me toward a goal I had once thought impossible, and no, I'm not talking about running for President. Whether he realized it or not, it is because of him that I am engaged to the love of my life. He brought Olivia into my life, and for that I will be forever grateful. Dad, wherever you are, thank you. Thank you for doing your best for me, for this state, and for everyone you loved. I am humbled to share your name, it's a lot to live up to, but you knew that when you gave it to me. And thank you for giving me the gift of my fiancé. Because of you, I was never, and will never be, alone. _

It had been a touching speech. Cyrus had spoken as well, and he had required multiple moments to regroup, and it touched Olivia's heart to see her usually serious boss moved to tears by the loss of his friend. Fitz had given him a warm, extended embrace. Olivia hoped their friendship would blossom as the campaign continued.

She was brought back to reality by the French doors opening and Tock springing to his feet to greet Fitz, who was carrying a cup of coffee. He was wearing a black suit with a white shirt underneath it, as well as his father's American flag tie clip. He looked handsome, and also very sad. He sat next to Olivia, put his arm on the back of the couch, and she scooted over to sit as close to him as possible.

"In five hours, it will be over and we'll be back here. In this very spot, if you want."

"Thank you for saying that. I really do just want this to be over."

"It's the last thing. Your dad would expect nothing less than a 21 gun salute, so salute we shall. But he would also want you to be able to relax. A little."

Fitz smiled. "Just a little." He sipped his coffee. "Thanks for taking care of me, Livi. I'm glad you know how."

It came out sounding worse than he meant, and he immediately started apologizing.

"Fitz, stop. I wish to God you weren't member of the parentless club. It's a lifetime membership and the perks aren't that great. But I'm glad you aren't in it alone."

"Me too," he said, pulling her close.

The service was lovely, and it was followed by a reception at the country club where Tom had been a member despite having lived in Los Angeles. There was some media coverage, but neither Olivia or Fitz stopped to speak to the press. They walked holding hands and were photographed entering the funeral, exiting and sitting in the back of a limousine with Cyrus, James and Eleanor. Later that night, rather than sit outside, Fitz suggested they watch a movie. He wanted to do something comforting and relaxing. They fell asleep in each other's arms on the couch, moving to bed around midnight.

"Livi?" Fitz said, as they held each other and prepared to sleep.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"This has all been so much easier with you here. Thanks for being brave and knowing what I need before I do."

"You're the brave one."

"Can we both be brave?"

Olivia smiled. She wouldn't argue with him. "We can both be brave."

They fell asleep in each other's arms. The days and weeks ahead would be difficult, but they both knew they would be manageable because they had each other.

* * *

Olivia's sit down interview on the most popular daytime talk show host had been rescheduled because of Tom's passing, and she flew to Chicago ten days after his funeral for the taping. Lindsay and Abby were with her for support. The checked into their hotel on Michigan Avenue and explored some of the shops nearby before having dinner at a newly opened restaurant that served modern cuisine. Olivia was recognized by a young law student, who complimented her work at Princeton. She was happy someone was still reading her writing. As she tried to fall asleep before the morning taping, she thought about how much her life had changed since she wrote a thesis for her final class at Princeton about how progressive politics doesn't have to be equivalent with drastic change. She wondered if that were true, or if she had been idealistic. She knew Fitz was running not on changing the face of politics completely, but on the idea that new ideas and new faces were needed to keep the country moving forward at pace with other world powers.

The three women arrived early to the studio, where Olivia met the woman she had grown up watching on television. Her mother had loved watching the show, both for the interviews with celebrities and the willingness to discuss difficult topics ranging from substance abuse to social issues. The woman was also perhaps the most well-known, respected and successful African-American woman, and as such a good role model for Olivia growing up. She shared as much in the green room before the interview. The host then asked if Olivia would be comfortable discussing the topic of race, and Olivia agreed, given that she had been mentally preparing to address the issue since it her relationship with Fitz was first made public.

The first segment of the interview was about Olivia's personal life, including the loss of her parents. She spoke eloquently how losing them at young age shaped her life path, and her personality, but how she had unexpectedly found herself a new path after college. She was able to tastefully mention the passing of Fitz's dad without sounding like she was trying to garner sympathy by saying he was missed and it had been a pleasure knowing him and see him being a father to Fitz as an adult, something had never experienced herself.

The second segment was about her courtship with Fitz, and also about the hurdles they have faced or might face in the future because of their differences "on paper." The age difference, the difference in their upbringings, the fact that he was white and she was black.

"Have you considered that you might be a model for other young black women, and what impact your relationship, win or lose, might have on young people?"

Olivia thought for a moment before replying.

"It's a good question, and an important one. I don't see my race as defining me as much as it is just part of my being. I've always felt proud of my heritage, and that pride was instilled in me by my parents and my people like you who worked hard and were successful. If anything, I want that work ethic, that curiosity, that wonder, to impact young people more than the fact that I am in love with and will marry a man who is white. But I know that our relationship, it has the potential," Olivia said.

"It has power," the host interjected.

"Sure, it has the power to open a dialogue in this country about what we, and I mean all of us, what we view as acceptable, or typical. Most days, I look at my fiancé and see a compassionate, hard-working, sensitive, loving man who loves me with his whole heart. That our commitment to each other might lead to people to ask questions and find answers, that leaves me humbled and concerned."

"Concerned?"

"I suppose I mean that my blackness, and his whiteness, we're all human. That there are those who might seek to bring us down because we love someone outside of our own race concerns me. I would be dishonest if I said otherwise."

"I agree with you completely. That's why I wondered if you recognized the power you have to change the hearts and minds of those who disagree with you, and me."

"I recognize it, yes. I didn't seek it, but I recognize it. I fell in love with an incredible man. He loves me fiercely. That is a gift, no matter what color your skin might be."

The final portion of the interview allowed Olivia to speak about issues that were of interest to her, including teacher preparation programs and stem cell research.

After the interview, Olivia was sitting with Abby and Lindsay in the green room, gathering her belongings and checking her messages when there was a knock on the door. It was the host.

"Ms. Pope, it was an absolute pleasure meeting you. Thank you for making the trip, and thank you for speaking so openly and honestly. Please give my regards to the senator, and have him call me should he need or desire any help in California, Chicago or anywhere else for that matter."

They hugged, Olivia thanked her, and then sat down, looking at the faces of her two friends. All three had wide eyes and smiles. She hoped the reaction of the public, and of Cyrus, was just as positive. Mostly, she hoped Fitz would be proud.

* * *

The response to Olivia's interview was overwhelmingly positive. She had known going in that if the issue of race had come up, anyone who disagreed would be viewed as insensitive. But she felt proud of her responses, because she had meant every word. That it had begun a conversation was a bonus, and it certainly appeared to have helped improve her visibility with the American people. Naturally, there were small groups in various parts of the country that would probably never fully accept her relationship with Fitz. That hadn't been the goal, and never would be.

A week after her daytime interview, Fitz appeared on another roundtable on a Sunday morning news program. Instead of being swayed and driven by the conversation of others, he was the leader. He asked questions about advancing scientific research, he advocated for equal rights for all and he refused to defend Olivia's supposed shortcomings as the future wife of a politician. Instead, he was able to discuss all that she brought to his life, and to lives of everyone she met.

When Olivia flew to Washington to attend several fundraisers in the area, Fitz had to work late and arranged for a car to pick her up at the airport. As she got into the backseat, she found a message from him on her phone.

**So glad you're here. Welcome to what could be our town, Mrs. Grant.**  
**Fitz**

She quickly typed a reply.

**Don't get ahead of yourself, Mr. Grant.**  
**Livi**

She was watching the District out of the window as her phone beeped once more.

**Check the polls. Love you.**  
**Fitz**

He was right. They were in this. The thought gave her the chills, as did the monuments she passed by, lit up and looming large. Olivia felt both nervous and excited for what was to come, and not just her wedding, but the possibility that Fitz was right. That this could be theirs.


	29. Chapter 29

It felt good to be back in California. Olivia and Fitz had spent much of the spring and early summer on the East Coast, attending various functions as a couple. Olivia's confidence was building, and she was starting to come into her own as the almost-wife of a legitimate presidential candidate. The combination of money raised from big donors, including the talk show host whom Olivia had endeared herself to, and small donors from the website, was building up the reserve that Fitz would need if he were to win his party's nomination.

As they rounded the corner to their home, Olivia thought back to their last stop out east, which had been her childhood home in New Jersey. She had wanted to Fitz to see where she had grown up. It was a modest home, tudor style, as Olivia had been an only child and there had never been a need for more space. She found it had been painted, and the bench she had shared with her parents had been removed from the front yard, but the feelings that arose as they pulled to a stop in front of the home didn't surprise her. She hadn't returned since the day before her father's funeral, when she had gone home to clean out her room and say her goodbyes to her childhood home. And her childhood. Olivia and Fitz were in the backseat, Cyrus and a driver (also a security guard) were in the front.

_"Is it okay if I get out, do you think? I'll just do a quick lap."_

_"Liv, I don't know. If they're home," Cyrus began._

_"Come on, Cy. It'll take less than five minutes. You guys stay in the car, we'll just take a quick look." Fitz grabbed her hand._

_Cyrus looked at the driver, who gave a small nod. "Fine. Hurry. Don't be weirdos."_

_They laughed and stepped out of the car onto the small sidewalk. Olivia took a breath. Fitz grabbed her hand._

_"So this is where my future wife grew up. It feels like you."_

_"It feels like my parents."_

_Fitz put his arms around her from behind. He didn't say anything. What was there to say? _

_"You know, it looks different. It has changed a lot. But so have I. And yet I can still feel them. If I close my eyes, I'm out here with my dad spraying for weeds. Or helping my mom in the kitchen, which is through that window right there," she said, pointing._

_Just as they were about to get back into the car, the front door of the house opened. It would have been rude to hurry away, so Fitz took her hand and lead her up the sidewalk. She was grateful to be with him. To not be alone. Her heart started beating quickly as they approached the man who had exited the house._

_"Good afternoon, sir. My name is Fitz, and this is my fiancé Olivia. We were in the area, and this is where Olivia lived as a child. We were just stopping by out of curiosity to see how it had changed."_

_"I see, you had us scared for a minute. Pleasure to meet you both. My name is Bruce, I bought this house around thirteen years ago with my wife Holly. She's inside watching through the window. Said she recognized you guys."_

_"Well, sir, I'm a senator from California, and I'm pursing the presidential nomination."_

_"She said she recognized your fiancé here," he said, pointing. "From one of her talk shows."_

_"I have been a few of them, yes. I'm so sorry to intrude, I just haven't been in the area since I last lived here and I couldn't help myself but come and see. Thank you for understanding."_

_"Sure thing. You said you grew up here?"_

_"I did. I was born in town, here, and lived here until I was twelve. It was a great house to us. Lots of wonderful memories."_

_"We love it," Bruce said. "I believe your father sold it to us?"_

_"He did. Or perhaps his trust. I'm not sure of the details. My parents both passed away before I was thirteen, and I wasn't involved in a lot of the loose ends."_

_"I'm sorry to hear that about your parents. Would you like to come in?"_

_Olivia did not want to go inside. Without saying it, Fitz knew._

_"We have to be going, Bruce, but I would love to just introduce myself to your wife, and thank her for not busting us as we stared at your lovely home."_

_They walked up the sidewalk. Olivia looked from left to right, thinking about all of the times she had made this walk coming home from school. She pictured her mother, waiting at the door, wanting to hear about her day. It was a bittersweet moment when Holly came to the door instead. She stepped onto the porch, and Olivia found some courage._

_"Holly, hello. I'm Olivia Pope, and your home was actually the place I lived as a child. I'm sorry if we alarmed you. My fiancé and I just wanted to see it before we made our way home to California."_

_"I knew it!" Holly exclaimed, throwing her arms around Olivia. "I saw your interview a few months ago and thought you were so inspirational. I knew you looked familiar. You grew up here?"_

_More details were given, hugs were exchanged, and Olivia and Fitz headed back to the car. Bruce and Holly waved at them from the porch. Olivia and Fitz waved back, and before she followed Fitz into the car Olivia took one last look at the place that had shaped her. It had been the only home she had known, until now. _

As Olivia unpacked, she reflected on what it had felt like to drive away for presumably the last time. She had felt sadness, but also contentment. The house held moments in time that were precious to her, and she was particularly emotional about them because her wedding was in a week. That thought alone helped change her mood. One week, and she would be Olivia Grant.

Fitz came into the bedroom after having walked Tock upon their return.

"How are you, Livi?" he asked, laying on the bed on his side while she sorted the rest of the clothes to be washed.

"I'm just fine. Glad to be home," she said.

"Me too. You know, a week from right about now," he said, looking at his watch, "we'll be married."

"I was just thinking that," she said, moving her suitcase off of the bed and laying down on her side to face him.

"How did I get here?" she asked.

"Luck. A couple of nudges. Love." He kissed her softly.

"I love you," she said, snuggling close to him.

"I love you too," he said, moving to his back. She fit into her usual spot and they laid there peacefully, Tock joining them, thinking about the week ahead and just how far they had come.

* * *

As the sun rose the next morning, Olivia felt peaceful. She tried to hold onto that feeling for as long as she could, because her list of things to do was long and she wanted to savor everything as much as she could. Fitz, apparently, had the same thing in mind. He moved over to her side of the bed and wrapped his arms around her. She felt his hardness and knew what he had in mind.

"How do you always know when I wake up?"

"I just know," he whispered into her ear.

She turned around and kissed him passionately. Her hands were everywhere. He did just know, and she knew a lot, she had learned a lot about his body, what he liked, how they fit together. She was only wearing a t-shirt, he usual nighttime attire, and he easily removed it. She put her hands under his bottom and invited him to her, and because of the anticipation and because of the passion they still shared for each other, little foreplay was needed. She was ready to feel him inside of her. They stayed facing each other as he entered her, her top leg wrapped around his waist. Fitz moved slowly, burying his face in her neck, and she moved her hands to his back and neck as their bodies rocked in unison.

"Fitz," she breathed into his hair, "god, this is, oh my god."

"Livi, love you," he said, climaxing just before she did.

They stayed wrapped in each other, maybe even dozing, for another hour before either of them felted compelled to tackle the day's activities.

* * *

The day of their rehearsal, the small wedding party traveled to the wedding site Olivia and Fitz had selected. It was a private mansion that sat atop Nob Hill in San Francisco. The ceremony and reception would be outdoors, both with views of the bay and the beautiful city. The décor was simple and elegant, golden tones with soft yellow and peach accents. Olivia and Fitz would not have a traditional wedding party with bridesmaids and groomsmen standing next to them at the alter. They both felt that they should be alone, that there should be space around them representing who was missing. That didn't mean some very important people wouldn't walk down the aisle and sit in the front row to support them. Abby, Lindsay and Eleanor had chosen their own chiffon dresses, in any shade of yellow or peach. Cyrus, Harrison and Greg would wear khaki linen pants and white shirts with a tie of their choice in the same hues. Fitz had decided on a khaki linen suit, a white shirt and soft peach tie. Olivia had helped him choose it. The custom made suit fit him perfectly, and he was going to look incredibly handsome.

The rehearsal only took a few minutes, as the ceremony would be short, with just the minister discussing the marriage and Olivia and Fitz exchanging their own rings and vows. The group headed back to Fitz and Olivia's home where a few more people were gathered for a small dinner and celebration before the wedding. The wedding itself would have around 200 guests, as Fitz was obligated to invite friends from his political life, and wanted to include some of his father's old friends, as well.

After dinner was served, Abby and Harrison stood up at the end of the table.

"Hi, everyone. Thank you all for being here. We are so thrilled to be celebrating the soon to be Mr. and Mrs. Grant. My husband and I have prepared a short skit in their honor." Abby shot Olivia a look, which felt like an I-told-you-so and an apology all at once.

Their skit was hilarious. It portrayed two socially inept people stumbling into love, and Harrison and Abby played it perfectly. Everyone in the room roared with laughter, Fitz and Olivia included. It was somewhat of a dramatization, but not that far off from their journey to each other.

Eleanor was next. She gave a heartfelt toast about witnessing the love blossom between Olivia and Fitz and relayed, again, how happy she was to be part of their day. Olivia would not have accepted no for an answer.

Greg and Mellie had prepared a toast and shared memories of Fitz as a college student. Olivia liked hearing about the young Fitz, she liked to picture him trying to navigate his way through the world, just as she had done.

Cyrus spoke last.

"Where to begin? Let's start with the obvious, the elephant in the room. This is San Francisco, and we need more wine!" Everyone laughed.

"I knew Fitz long before I even knew Olivia existed. He was a quiet, hard-working kid who didn't like to be bossed around. I obviously respected that. That was all that I knew, aside from what his father shared. We don't have to get into that. Because what I know now is that Fitz might be quiet and hard-working, but he is also a damn fine person, inside and out. He cares about people. He cares about the world. All that his father told me many more words than that was true, but that's really all he was trying to tell me. Fitz is a good, good man, and just as he stood by me at my own wedding, union, whatever, I am happy to do the same for him. His dad would kill me if I didn't, may he rest in peace."

"Olivia, Liv, I met you when you were a teenager. And folks, don't get any ideas, that is not what it sounds like. You were an eager student, but you were also the smartest I had seen in all of my years at Princeton. You knew what you wanted, and I knew you would get it with or without my help. It was nothing but a pleasure to mentor you, to see your mind at work. To realize you didn't need me, though I acted as if you did for as long as I could. When I came out here, and this all started, I knew I needed someone young, someone naïve enough to say yes but smart enough to know it was worth the risk. Not to make this about me, but I was right. Liv, we wouldn't be where we are today without you."

"But enough about business. Here's the thing. I knew these two separately, and I've known them together. It's the most amazing sight to behold, to see two people who are eternally made for each other find themselves in a position to fall in love and build a life together. I feel blessed, truly, to have watched this happen, despite one side of my brain trying to keep you focused on the task at hand. What are the chances that you find your perfect fit in this world? A few of us here have, but for me, watching you guys figure this out has been a lesson in life and love. I am honored to know you, I am honored to work for you, I am honored to say that I love you and wish you nothing but good fortune and continued love and happiness in the future. To Liv and Fitz, my friends, congratulations!"

There was dessert, and mingling, and by midnight the house was empty. Olivia and Fitz looked at each other. This would be their last night together before they were married. They would not be sleeping apart, but Olivia would leave early in the morning to start getting ready. Abby was picking her up at 7:30. They spent an hour in front of the fireplace, and then headed to bed where they held each other and tried to sleep before what would be the best day of their lives.

* * *

Author's note: The wedding is next! This was starting to get long so I stopped it here.


	30. Chapter 30

Author's note:

1. I own none of the music mentioned in this chapter.

2. If you haven't looked up the song "The Light" by The Album Leaf, now would be the time to do so.

3. I borrowed some words from Rhimes & Co. for Fitz's vows. They are their property and I used them solely for my/our amusement.

4. It sure was fun to imagine this couple getting married. I hope I did them justice.

* * *

Olivia looked at herself in the mirror after her three friends – Abby, Eleanor, Lindsay – had helped her into her dress. She smiled shyly as they gushed about how she looked.

The dress was soft, exquisite Chantilly lace in the softest of ivory colors. From the front, the sweetheart neckline complimented the lace straps that framed her neck and shoulders flawlessly. The dress was tight through her waist, really form fitting until just above her ankles, where it flared slightly. There was an ivory satin ribbon at her natural waist. What was perhaps the most stunning part of an exceedingly beautiful dress was the keyhole back. Not noticeable from the front, when Olivia turned you could see that the straps actually connected behind her neck and then again with the bottom of the dress near the small of her back, leaving most of her back exposed and framed in the beautiful lace.

She was wearing diamond and pearl chandelier earrings, which had been a gift from Cyrus. Her engagement ring was on her right ring finger, and the first ring Fitz had given her was on her right middle finger. Her bracelet she wore on her left wrist. He had picked out a wedding band for her, as she had for him, but both would be surprises during the ceremony.

Olivia's hair was down in soft, natural ringlets, and her makeup was natural with just a touch of drama around her eyes. She would wear a peachy lipstick. Her veil was particularly special, because it had belonged to her mother. It had been trimmed because the bottom was stained due to the passage of time, but it was long enough to cover her back and sat perfectly over her hair.

There was only one thing to do before they departed for the wedding, and that was to read the letter Fitz had slipped into her bag. She had found it earlier, and smiled because she had done the same for him, leaving a letter next to his razor in the bathroom.

The girls headed to the front room of their hotel suite, and Olivia stood next to the window and read Fitz's letter. It was short.

Dear Olivia,  
I'll save some sentiments for my vows, but I want you to know how much I am looking forward to being your husband. There's no one for me but you. You make me better. You make be braver. You make happy. I'm so incredibly happy that we are in this, together, forever.  
I love you.  
Fitz

In his house not far away, Fitz had found his letter as he got ready to shower. He opened it and read it standing in his towel in front of the steaming shower.

My one and only, Fitz,  
I can't wait to see you, waiting for me at the end of one path and the beginning of a new one. It could only be you. Thank you for showing me how to love.  
I love you.  
Livi Pope Grant

There would be a lot guests she barely knew at this wedding. It was par for the course, which was why last night's intimate gathering had been so special, why the speeches had been given. Fitz and Olivia would thank their guests for attending, and Cyrus would give a brief speech, but other than that there just be dinner at sunset and dancing long into the night. Olivia thought about her first dance with Fitz as she slipped on her ivory heels trimmed with crystals. She was ready.

She watched the guests trickle in from an upstairs bedroom of the mansion. She saw some that she recognized, but everyone who mattered was somewhere in the house. She was with her friends, and Fitz was somewhere else with his. When the string quartet started playing "You're All I Need to Get By" by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell, both Olivia and Fitz knew it was time. He headed downstairs first, followed by Cyrus, Greg and Harrison. Olivia saw him greet some guests who arriving at the last minute, and then the wedding planner directed the men to begin their walk down the aisle. Olivia was still at the window and saw Fitz make his way down the aisle. He took her breath away. She knew she needed to go, but she stood there, taking in the sight of her man, her best friend, waiting for her on their wedding day.

The quartet wrapped up their song and paused before beginning the song for Abby, Lindsay and Eleanor. Lindsay went first. Eleanor was next.

"Thank you," Olivia said to Abby. It didn't seem like enough, but she was too nervous to say anything else.

"Liv, you are beautiful. You are about to be married to a man who adores you. I'm just happy to be a part of it," Abby said. She took her cue from the planner and made her way down the aisle to "La Vie En Rose" a song Olivia and Fitz both loved when they had watched the original version of the movie Sabrina. Olivia thought of the lyrics before it was her turn.

Hold me close and hold me fast  
The magic spell you cast  
This is la vie en rose

When you kiss me heaven sighs  
And though I close my eyes  
I see la vie en rose

When you press me to your heart  
I'm in a world apart  
A world where roses bloom

And when you speak...angels sing from above  
Everyday words seem...to turn into love songs

Give your heart and soul to me  
And life will always be  
La vie en rose

The quartet finished, Olivia saw the nod from the planner and stepped out into the afternoon sunlight. She had to go forward and then make a left-hand turn down the aisle. Right before she began walking, she thought of her mother and father. She glanced up at the sky and wished with everything in her that somewhere, somehow they were watching, and that they could feel what she could feel.

The quartet started, and it was a song Olivia knew nobody would recognize. It was a song called "The Light," by The Album Leaf. She and Abby had discovered them when searching through new music with an electronic edge for the website and other advertisements for the campaign. The song didn't have words. It just felt, well, it just felt right. "The Light" in particular was a song she had found after Abby suggested the artist, and she had played it for Fitz over the phone. After it was over, they had both been breathing heavily, so moved by the sound of the song. When she heard the song, she pictured herself in Fitz's arms. It was comfort. It was home. It was theirs and theirs alone. She smiled and started walking.

Olivia smiled and made eye contact with a few people she recognized from pervious gatherings, but as soon as she made eye contact with Fitz, she was hooked. She handed her bouquet of ivory roses to Abby, the guests were seated, Fitz took her hands and mouthed, "I love you," and the ceremony began.

The minister, a friend of Tom Grant, talked about the sanctity of marriage, the joining of two souls, the pledge to each other for all time. He included a few stories about the time had spent with Olivia and Fitz while they planned for the wedding, and also a story about Tom telling him, when Fitz was five years old, that nobody would ever be good enough for his son. Fitz and Olivia both smiled. Tom's presence was missed deeply, but he was all around. Before Olivia knew it, it was time to say their vows. Eleanor handed her a slip of paper, which she took, but she knew she didn't need notes for this speech.

"Fitz," she said. "I told you once that you brought me back to life, and that is an indisputable fact. You showed me what it felt like to be loved. There are defining moments in all of our lives, and in mine, there have been four. First, the loss of my mother. I wondered earlier if she could feel what I was feeling right now, right here, and I know that she can. I feel so strongly that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. Second, meeting you and moving to California. Because really, unless the fates had intervened, perhaps we wouldn't be here otherwise. Third, your proposal on the roof of a hotel in New Orleans. That was the day I knew my life had been changed. For good. And finally, today. This moment. That look in your eyes. My hands in yours. The feeling of love so strong I wonder if people can feel our heats beating in unison. Our lives officially becoming connected long after we knew it was inevitable. This moment ends what might have been a lifetime of loneliness and begins a future full of laughter, love and light. I am so proud to become your wife. I am so happy to be on this journey with you. I love you more today than any day before it. I love you, Fitz. Thank you for showing me the way."

Olivia sighed and wiped the tears that had formed in her eyes while she spoke. She saw Fitz do the same, as well as most of the guests, her friends, sitting in the front row.

Fitz did not have any notes. He sighed once more before speaking.

"Olivia, my Livvy. I love you. I'm in love with you, and have been since the day we met. You're the love of my life. My every feeling is controlled by the look on your face. I can't breathe without you. I didn't know it before I saw you, but I had been waiting for you for my entire life. You showed up and changed everything. You have made me more honorable, more dedicated, more humbled and more motivated to be the best version of myself. I will spend the rest of my life being the man you see in me and will love you and cherish you the way you deserve, every day and every night. We were told once that we needed to be journey people. That the destination mattered, but the journey mattered more. I didn't buy it then, but I do now. This journey, our journey, has shown me what true love really is. Though I will say, right now, with the most beautiful woman I have ever seen standing across from me, I must say that this particular destination is pretty amazing."

Olivia laughed, as did most of the guests.

"Livvy, you're perfect. Thank you for saying yes, thank you for being you, and thank you for making me the happiest man in the world. I love you."

Olivia wiped her eyes and shook her hair a little to try and regain her composure. It was time to exchange rings. She took the ring from Lindsay.

It was white gold, simple. The phrase she had engraved on the inside proved that she and Fitz were on a wavelength all their own. "7-28-07…the journey continues."

"With this ring, I thee wed." She slipped the ring onto Fitz's left ring finger.

Cyrus handed him a ring and Fitz held Olivia's left hand. What she saw took her breath away. It was her mother's wedding band. Rose gold, with a spiral pattern engraved all around. She had told Fitz about it, but had kept it in a locked jewelry box in the back of her closet. Her hand started shaking and she put her right hand to her lips as he slid the ring on her finger.

"With this ring, I thee wed." He took her hand and kissed it. She put her right hand on his cheek and he leaned into it. She was speechless, but she needed him to know she was overcome, but in a good way.

"Olivia and Fitzgerald, by the power invested in me by the great state of California, on this beautiful day as the sun sets over the bay, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Fitz put his hands on Olivia's cheeks and for a brief moment brought their heads together so that their foreheads were touching. Then, he kissed her deeply, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her slightly off of the ground. When he set her down, she brought her hands to his chest and held onto the lapels of his suit jacket, smiling widely.

"I love you."

He kissed her quickly to the laughter of the crowd.

"I love you too."

The minister cleared his throat.

"If I may do the honors, for the first time as husband and wife, please allow me to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Fitz and Olivia Grant!"

Olivia took her flowers from Abby and the newly married couple stood together smiling at the guests before making their way up the aisle. Olivia hooked her arm around Fitz's and they walked up the aisle to the string quartet version of Stevie Wonder's "Signed, Sealed Delivered (I'm Yours)."

The reception was a blur. There were a lot of guests to greet. A thank you and welcome speech to deliver. A first dance, to Bob Dylan's "To Make You Feel My Love." Dancing the night away to a live band that played music from every decade and every genre. More hugs than Olivia had ever given or received in her life. Around midnight, sparklers were lit, and Olivia and Fitz made their way to the car that would drive them home. She held Cyrus tight and thanked him for bringing her to California. She blew kisses to the rest of her friends and got into the car through the door Fitz was holding for her. He slid in beside her.

"Livvy, this was an incredible day."

"It was. I'm exhausted."

They both laughed. She turned and sat with her back against the door and put her legs on his lap.

"Me too. Let's go home. Sound good, Mrs. Grant?"

Olivia smiled and reached for his hand. She held it and squeezed. That sounded so good.

"Sounds good, Mr. Grant."

* * *

Olivia and Fitz honeymooned in Australia. He had decided when he had seen her first apartment that he wanted to take her to all of the boardwalks in the photographs on her walls, and Australia had many in various parts of the country. They went on long walks. They sat near the ocean and talked about their future. They went zip-lining and down natural water slides and snorkeling. It was the most relaxed they had been, and it was a trip they would never forget.

On their last night there, Olivia held up her left hand, where she wore her mother's, and now her, wedding band with her engagement ring.

"I still can't believe this. It was so thoughtful, so surprising, and it all just matches."

"Of course it does," Fitz said. "I told you I knew I loved you. I knew your mom's ring was rose gold. And I knew it'd be perfect for you."

"You're too much, Fitz."

He leaned over and kissed her.

"I take it back," she said, returning his kiss. "You're just right."


	31. Chapter 31

The rest of 2007 was a whirlwind for the newly married Fitzgerald and Olivia Grant. There were fundraisers, meetings, debates, gatherings and a lot of travel. Now, Olivia accompanied Fitz much more often, and was getting better and interacting with people who were now her peers. The rest of the initial Project P group had moved into bigger office space in San Francisco and it was now the official headquarters of Grant for America.

There was a debate scheduled amongst the six candidates still in the primary race in South Carolina in November. Olivia and Fitz were already there, and Cyrus and the rest of the staff designated for debate preparation arrived two days prior. Olivia was not directly involved in the preparation, but stopped by the hotel conference room with late night snacks the night before the debate. She entered the room during what sounded like an escalating argument between Fitz and a staffer.

"It's not something I need to address. Been there, done that," Fitz said.

"I understand, Senator. I'm suggesting that others are going to address it. I think you have to be mentally prepared," the staffer tried to say.

"I appreciate your hard work on this. I don't need to mentally prepare."

Cyrus glanced at Olivia, as if to tell her to let this play out. Fitz hadn't noticed her enter the room.

"Perhaps that was the wrong choice of words, sir. I don't mean to say you don't know what to say, I mean that the attacks might be stronger than we've seen in the past."

"Nobody will attack my wife!" Fitz said.

Olivia's eyes went wide. She held sandwiches and two pitchers of iced tea but remained immobile and silent.

"Sir, I think, I think it's time to accept that someone probably will."

Fitz put his hands on the back of his chair, hung his head for a moment, then looked at Cyrus.

"Sir, I agree."

"So do I," Olivia said, finally walking toward the large table and setting down what she was carrying.

Fitz turned. "Do you even know what we're talking about?" He sounded harsh, exhausted.

"I do, yes," she said, staying calm, "I walked in near the end but I think I get it. Your staff is doing the right thing by recommending you ready yourself for questions about my flaws, and you're saying you don't need to."

"That's about right Liv," Cyrus said.

She crossed her arms in front of her and looked at Fitz.

"Senator, what drew you to someone who is more than twelve years your junior?"

Fitz began a reply, but Olivia interrupted.

"Senator, does it concern you that your wife's only experience in public service is limited to the work she has done for you?"

Fitz sat, knowing she was going to make her point whether he liked it or not.

"Senator, is it possible that your wife could hinder your ability to be the leader of this country?"

The staffer who had been speaking when Olivia walked in nodded, as did Cyrus.

"Senator, why would you marry someone with little experience in this arena before a general election if you really wanted to win?"

That final question was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. Fitz shot out of his chair.

"Enough! I get it. But those are ridiculous questions! They're illogical and personal and not at all what the debate should be about."

"I don't disagree, Fitz," Olivia said, "but them being ridiculous doesn't mean someone won't ask them. We all know that. That's why we're suggesting you prepare for everything, even the idiotic."

Fitz sighed. The room was quiet.

"I'm sorry to interrupt or intrude. I was just bringing you all some fuel."

She shot Fitz a look, nodded at Cyrus, and headed back to the hotel room.

It was three hours before Fitz came to bed. That was a lot of time to think about what she had said, what Fitz had said, and what might be said about her in tomorrow's debate.

She was reading a book when Fitz came into the bedroom part of their hotel suite. She closed it and waited.

"I fucking hate this part," he said.

"I know, it's awful. And it's not why you're in this."

"Exactly. It's hard enough. And then they make it about things that don't matter, and I get even more frustrated. I'm sorry you had to hear that."

"I'm not. Look, Fitz. It's going to happen. A lot of people view me as your liability, and they aren't completely wrong."

He started to talk, but she continued.

"I'm about to turn 26. I haven't worked for anyone but you, basically. I'm not from a recognizable family. I started off slow and it took me a while to be comfortable in public. Our wedding vows were reprinted in People Magazine. Those aren't made up facts. Those are real hurdles."

"Livy," he said, getting under the covers and curling up next to her. She held him the way he usually held her.

"I love you for all of those reasons. That is my response. All of those things, those hurdles, those are reasons I love you."

"And I love you for that. I do. But America needs to trust that I can do this, and that you can do it with me as your wife."

He sighed. What else was there to say? Deep down, he knew she was right. But everything he had ever told her still held true, and that was that he wouldn't do this without her. He couldn't say that to the group of people working so hard to help him. But if answering questions about Olivia cost him the nomination, it was a price he was willing to pay.

They fell asleep without further discussion. Fitz was up early for one last session of prep, and Olivia spent the day doing phone interviews with news outlets about that night's debate. When Fitz came back to the room to get ready, he was carrying a garment bag that had been delivered and sent from Lindsay. Olivia was already mostly dressed. She had chosen a navy blue velvet blazer and skirt, with a white silk shell that had red and raspberry polka dots. It was classy, but still modern. She would wear her hair clipped back on both sides.

Fitz's team had chosen a dark navy suit that of course fit him perfectly, a light blue dress shirt and a blue tie.

Olivia smiled. "Senator smurf," she said, walking over.

"Excuse me?" he said, kiddingly, as she removed his tie.

"You heard me." She walked over to her suitcase where she had packed some ties she had found at a local shop the previous day. She found a maroon and white angled plaid and held it up to Fitz's chest. "Much better," she said, tying it for him.

"You just know stuff. That's what I'm going to tell people tonight. Ladies and gentlemen of America, Olivia Grant just knows stuff."

She smiled. "Say it again," she said, pulling the tie tight.

"Olivia Grant." He smiled, too.

She took his face in her hands and kissed him.

"I love you, baby," she said. "Just go show them who you are."

"Who we are," he said, kissing her back. "And I love you, too."

The question about Olivia occurred in the final third of the debate, and it came as a follow-up to a comment Fitz made about the need to decrease the cost of college tuition and supporting all fields, not just science and math.

"Sir, your wife majored in politics and in fact only graduated a few years ago. Is your plan for student loan forgiveness something you would recommend for your own wife?"

Fitz smiled. "With all due respect, Governor Reston, the year of my wife's graduation from college with a flawless grade point average, a highly-touted thesis and the recommendations of career politicians and researchers has nothing to do with student loan forgiveness. But I will answer your question, and that is that yes, my plan to make college more attainable for a larger population of Americans is something I believe in, otherwise I wouldn't have proposed it. For my wife, for your son, for everyone."

Olivia was sitting in the small room designated for Fitz's team. She smiled, and also secretly thanked him for bragging about her even though it might have been slightly inappropriate.

Another candidate jumped in. "Senator Grant, that is all well and good, but allow me to ask the question everyone here is too afraid to ask. Your wife is a lovely woman, obviously very smart and kind. But what kind of promises can she make about the work she might do given that her only experience outside of university atmosphere is working on your staff?"

It was the question Olivia had posed the pervious evening, almost word for word.

"I will answer your question, but first allow me to say this. I am running for President of the United States. I am running because I have ideas for growth and change that I believe benefit all of us, not just a few of us. My work for the city of San Francisco and the State of California speaks for itself."

The moderator interrupted. "Senator Grant, the question was about Ms. Grant's experience."

"I understand. Look, being First Lady is an honor and a responsibility. It requires someone who is forward-thinking, who enjoys helping others, someone who is both intelligent and compassionate. That is not a complete list, but I think you all know where I'm going with this. Olivia Grant has been my partner in life for many years. Sometimes she is my sparring partner when we debate issues we are both passionate about. Sometimes she is my partner presenting me with ideas for my platform. Sometimes she is my partner by just listening. She's a very good listener. My point is that she and I are in this together, and we would be together whether I was running for President or not. Her strength of character, her motivation, her understanding of human nature, all of those things make her more than capable of serving as the country's First Lady."

Fitz looked straight into the camera. "And frankly, that people would insinuate that because of her age she is unable to do the job is ridiculous. Her words and actions have only supported what those who know her know, which is that she will make an excellent public servant and would represent us all well as First Lady of the United States."

Olivia sighed. She knew he should have stopped, but she was proud of him for sticking to his guns.

"Well, he just called two of the other leading candidates ridiculous. Let's see where that takes us," Cyrus said, standing up and dialing a number on his Blackberry. He didn't return, presumably because he was going to the room where he would be interviewed by various television networks immediately following the debate. There was a small knock on the door, and someone led her to the wings of the stage for the standard hug and wave. Olivia was smoothing her skirt when Governor Reston's wife approached and stood next to her.

"I'm sure you're on cloud nine," she said.

"Excuse me?" Olivia asked.

"Your husband just fell on the sword for you. That has to make you feel good."

"Oh. I don't see it that way. I see it as him trying to open the minds of people who are focusing on the wrong issues."

"I'm a mother. I've worked for decades serving the state of Maryland. I think my experiences, or yours, are an issue. But that's just me," Mrs. Reston said.

"I applaud your years of service, and certainly being a mother is one of the most, if not the most, important jobs we can have. But to assume I'm incapable because our life experiences are different seems to be distracting from what really matters. Like your husband's inconsistent voting record or his plan to cut research spending. But that's just me."

They got the nod, the debate ended, and Olivia was the first wife to step onto the stage. She noticed it took Governor Reston's wife a moment to compose herself. She should have kept her mouth shut, but she was still Olivia Pope at heart.

She walked over to Fitz and put her arms around his neck, and his went around her waist as always.

"Well done, Senator," she whispered.

He let go, having been told by numerous people including Olivia that the stage of a debate was not the place for public displays of affection. But he couldn't help himself. He grabbed her hand and kissed it.

"Thanks, Livi."

They held hands and waved to the crowd. Olivia shook hands with the other people on stage. The stood facing the crowd one more time with their arms around each other's backs, smiling and waving. When they got to the wings, someone removed Fitz's microphone and they made their way back to the room where Olivia had been waiting. Fitz closed the door and stood there. Olivia turned, locked the door, and threw her arms around his neck. They kissed passionately. He was able to sneak one of his hands underneath her skirt while still keeping one hand her neck. He cupped her bottom and pulled her close to him. She moaned quietly, exploring his mouth with her tongue, wanting desperately to remove his suit jacket and feel his chest and his arms. She unhooked herself from him and stepped back.

"Fitz," she said, breathing heavily. "We have to stop."

"You started it, Livi," he said, smiling.

"I know. You were so good tonight. I'm so glad you're my husband."

"What, you had your eyes on Reston and now I've finally convinced you to be team Grant?"

She smiled. "Grant for the people," she said, stepping closer to him and kissing his ear. "And later, Grant just for me."

He growled and kissed her neck. Just then, someone tried to open the door.

"Like I said, later," Olivia said, reaching behind him to unlock the door and open it.

"Sir, they're ready for you," a staffer said.

Fitz kissed her one more time and was off for a sit down with a cable news network.

The rest of 2007 flew by. Another debate. Holiday celebrations and fundraisers. Campaign stops. All in preparation for the Iowa caucuses, which would be held the first week of January. Though she was removed from many, well, most, of the strategy sessions, Olivia knew that Iowa mattered. That a good showing there meant the campaign would continue. A poor showing, and the dream might be over. The dream of being the First Couple, maybe. But to her, the real dream, the one she had been living since becoming Olivia Grant, that dream mattered the most.


	32. Chapter 32

A week before Olivia's 26th birthday, the primary caucuses in Iowa, the first official assessment of where Fitz stood in his party's primary, took place. Fitz was charismatic and alluring. People attended town hall meetings, asked thoughtful questions and received thoughtful responses in return and generally the entire campaign staff felt positively about his performance before the actual day of the vote. January in Iowa had been cold, weather-wise. Olivia had stocked up on a variety of chic outwear options, as she was often photographed with Fitz outside of buildings or walking down the main street of a town.

Olivia called Cyrus the night before the vote. She called after midnight, while Fitz was rinsing off the day in the shower. On other nights, she might have joined him. But she knew he needed some time to decompress.

"Liv, what's up?" Cyrus sounded groggy.

"I'm sorry, Cyrus, if I woke you."

"Nah, it's okay. I only need two good hours to function anyway. Everything okay?"

"All is fine here. I was just wondering, hoping really, that you might be able to give me an honest answer about, you know, how things are looking."

Cyrus laughed. "Oh Liv, you really were meant for campaigning. It's a shame you went and married the candidate, we could have used you on the ground, giving orders."

"Very funny," she said, rolling her eyes slightly and then waiting for Cyrus' response.

"Unofficially, I think it will be close. I think Reston is probably going to win and that our battle is for second place, between us and Langston. I think we've done all that we can do. I think you, both Fitz, you, and the two of you, have been engaging and shown them what a Grant presidency might look like. The question now is whether or not that's what they're looking for."

"And if we come in third?"

Cyrus sighed. So did Olivia.

"If we come in third, we can keep fighting, at least until Super Tuesday. But third is far from second. Third and we might need to set our sights on 2016, assuming our party wins and the President sits for two terms. Or the vice-presidency."

"God, Cyrus. When I asked you to be honest I wasn't expecting that! You have a long term plan!" Olivia said.

"I'm drunk, I was sleeping, what can I say? We're as ready as we can be. I feel good about that. Let's see what happens."

When Fitz came to bed, Olivia was sitting crossed-legged, reading that day's newspapers and the latest polls.

"Any thoughts?" he said, getting under the covers and facing her, balling the pillow up to hear what she had to say.

"I think you've done a great job of being you. There's nobody saying you aren't a great person with great ideas. Both of which are true, obviously," she said, leaning over to kiss him.

"And?" Fitz said.

"And what?"

"Let's hear it, Livi." He smiled.

"The numbers say we're racing for second. And that's just fine. A lot of future presidents have come in second in Iowa. I think that's our goal, that's what we aim for, that's what we do." Fitz was smart. He knew what she wasn't saying. There was no reason for her to share Cyrus' thoughts. If she had learned anything in the last months of the campaign, it was that Fitz had a political savvy that was hidden beneath the surface. He made decisions strategically with little to no advising. He knew how important the following day would be.

One by one, he tossed the each paper in the Olivia's pile onto the floor. She smiled and let him.

"There is one other thing we do. Quite well." Fitz's eyes were laser-focused on her.

"Oh yeah?" she said, laying down and facing him, scooting over to his side of the bed so that his arms were around her.

"Yeah," he said, kissing her. "Hi."

She kissed him back. "Hi."

They spent an hour in their land of bliss before tiring and falling into a deep sleep, holding each other. When the alarm went off at 4:45 the next morning, Fitz sighed heavily into the back of her head.

"Let's do this, baby," she said, reaching her hand up to run it through his hair. She could feel him smiling on the back of her neck. They showered together, dressed – him in a gray suit, light maroon shirt and blue and white tie, her in a navy blue sweater dress with navy tights and brown knee-high boots – and headed downstairs for a pancake breakfast with a group of voters. Today was the day.

By 9:00 central time, most of the votes were tallied. Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III had come in third place in Iowa by a small percentage. It was close, but not too close to call. Fitz gave a speech to a room that was filled to the brim of supporters, many of whom chanted their desire for him to stay in the race.

"Your support for not only myself, but for my wife, and the team of people who have worked extremely hard for many years to get us to this night, I am profoundly grateful for it. That you are all still here, while the snow swirls outside and alarms are set for work or school tomorrow, I cannot tell you what that means to us." He motioned for Olivia to join him on the small stage. She obliged, and walked out waving to a thunderous applause from the group. Fitz put her arm around her.

"The past couple of years, being able to share our vision with you, being able to travel the country and meet people who see the potential in all of us, it has been the adventure of our lives. Iowa, you have been welcoming and supportive. On behalf of Olivia and the rest of the team, please accept our sincerest thanks."

More applause. Fitz looked around, then looked at Olivia. Their eyes met. Sure, there were discussions to be had, but she knew based on previous late-night discussions what he was thinking.

"Governor Reston and Senator Langston are both compassionate people with great ideas of their own. It is my, our, belief that further debates among us will only delay the inevitable, and that is that our party has an exceptional candidate to take back the White House and move this country further towards the dreams we know it can achieve. And that is why, tonight, I am officially ending my campaign for President of these United States. We will continue to work hard for you, Iowa, for our home state of California, and for the country. Thank you for your support. Thank you for your kindness. Thank you for inspiring us and reminding us that the work we've done is worth the effort. May God bless you and the United States of America. Thank you! Please travel home safely."

Olivia and Fitz stood with their arms around each other and waved to the crowd. Music played. They walked off the stage to greet those who had remained long past the required time. Fitz took phone calls from his opponents. He hadn't decided yet who he would endorse. As he watched Olivia speak with a couple about their child who had benefited from a stem cell transplant, and they thanked her for her advocacy, he smiled. They may have lost tonight, but they had learned a lot along the way. Olivia was a natural with people on the campaign trail. She cared about people. He himself felt blessed that she cared about him. He walked over and kissed her on the cheek, a moment that was caught on camera by the last remaining newspaper photographer and that ran in national papers the following day. It was Olivia looking to her right, into Fitz's eyes, as he kissed her tenderly and looked at her. It was a moment of genuine happiness. Most people understood why Fitz had suspended his campaign, but many were upset by his early exit. They thought he should have at least waited until Super Tuesday. But Fitz had spoken with Greg, Cyrus and his advisors, as well as Olivia, and he felt that coming in third meant it wasn't the right time. Despite Olivia's protests at first, she soon understood that in four or eight years, she would be older, she would have more work experience, and they would all be wiser. It was a mutual decision, and nobody who worked for Grant for America was angry. Disappointed, maybe, but not angry.

They flew on a jet provided by one of Cyrus' friends back to California. Abby and Harrison were going to take a few weeks to house hunt and find a home outside of San Francisco. Cyrus was going to take a few weeks to sit in a quiet room with his thoughts for as long as James could force him to do so. Olivia and Fitz were going to spend time with Tock, have Eleanor over for dinner and look into buying a small condominium in Sacramento. Fitz would get back to the work of being a senator, and Olivia would think about the kind of work she would like to do. Fortunately for her, many doors were now open given her three and half years of experience working for Cyrus, as well as her exposure as a potential First Lady. She was planning to begin searching after a couple of weeks of sleep and relaxation with her husband.

* * *

By the time the convention rolled around, in August 2008, Fitz had turned down the offer from Governor Reston to be his vice presidential candidate, and the Reston-Langston ticket was functioning like a machine. The same could be said for the founding members of Project P.

Harrison and Lindsay had begun their own law firm, and Abby was finishing her first year of law school. Cyrus was back in New Jersey, teaching a couple of classes at Princeton as a visiting professor and allowing James to travel the country covering the upcoming Presidential election. Fitz was back at work as a senator in California, working especially hard on equal rights propositions and environmental improvements. Olivia had accepted a position at Stanford University as the Associate Dean of Student Services. She had been tasked with forming and leading the university's new Department of Student Community Service. Olivia loved the work. It allowed her to interact with leaders in the field of higher education as well as bright, motivated students looking to make a difference in the world. It also kept her busy, but the 40-minute commute from San Francisco to campus was manageable either by car or by train.

Olivia and Fitz shared a calendar, and worked hard to be in San Francisco or Sacramento together whenever possible. Fitz loved seeing Olivia at her most vibrant. She was being challenged intellectually and he could tell what Cyrus had meant the very first day he had met her when he had said she genuinely loved learning and working hard. Together, Fitz and Olivia were a force to be reckoned with. She was so much better at speaking to large groups, and mingling, either with or without Fitz. She was developing her sense of self outside of Fitz and his campaign, and to Fitz, she was as beautiful as she had ever been.

After attending the convention, and doing sit-down interviews with all of the networks, the small group gathered for a late dinner in Denver. It was the first time they had all been together in a while.

"That might have been us," Cyrus said, nodding to a television over the bar that was replaying the waves of Reston and Langston, the balloons dropping, "but I'd like to propose a toast to the future."

The group waited.

"We're scrappy. We're smart. But most importantly, we care about what matters. We aren't done. I'll be calling all of you on November 5. We'll either need to start thinking about 2012, or we'll need a long-term strategy for 2016. Here here!"

Everyone had their glasses in the air, but their eyes on Fitz. Even Olivia. They had spoken about the future many times. They were both happy. Happy in their jobs, happy in California, happy together. But they couldn't deny that they both felt the pull of the White House.

"To the future," Fitz said, his eyes on Olivia, clinking his glass with hers.

"To the future," she echoed, and they both turned and toasted with their friends. There was time to figure it all out. They knew Cyrus was serious and expected his call the day following the election. But for tonight, they reminisced about the journey, waxed poetic about the future and looked ahead to the experiences that laid ahead, wondering where they might lead.

Fitz and Olivia held hands in the elevator on the way up to the room. After all of their nights together, after over a year of marriage, the hair on her arms still stood up at his touch. As the elevator dinged, up to the top floor, as always, she slowly turned her head to peek at her husband. Her husband. Just those words meant the world to her, that he was hers and she was his, that they were going through life together, to the top of every hotel, to their deck in San Francisco, to the residence of the White House. It was true, she realized. The destination didn't matter. What mattered was that she was that she was on a journey with Fitz.

"I love you," she said.

He turned to look at her. "I love you, too," he said, leaning down to kiss her neck.

"Movie night?" she asked.

"Of course. I'll even let you pick," Fitz said with a smile.

Olivia smiled. She had packed their wedding video. They hadn't watched it on their anniversary as planned, as they had been too busy reminding each other about all of the parts of their bodies they loved. Tonight, they would order popcorn from room service, watch the day they said their vows and drift to sleep thinking of the promises they made that day, and of the promise of their future as Fitz and Olivia Grant.

* * *

Author's note: This is the end of "What Matters." It was my first attempt at fan fiction, and I have to be honest: I loved it! It was wonderful to think about these characters as being similar to those that we see on television, but with some different backstories and characteristics. I love these two! I thought about continuing the story from here, but instead I will pick up with a sequel/continuation after the Thanksgiving holiday. Look for it around December 1 or 2. Thank you for all of your reviews, and for reading. Hope to hear from you again soon!

And to all of the other author's here - thank you for all of your contributions. I so enjoy reading them, and thank you for sharing your visions of these characters with the rest of us. Team Olitz. :)


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